


my princess

by MarshmallowGirl



Series: Rileys Princess [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Butch/Femme, Control, DO NOT DO THIS, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Discipline, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/F, Female Daddy, Fluff, Gentle, I do not condone kidnapping your obsessions, Infantilism, Kidnapping, LGBTQ, Lesbian, Loss of Control, MD/LG, Mentions of Death, Mommydom, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Spanking, Power Imbalance, Spanking, Straight jackets, butch daddy, dd/lg, light med play, mentions of mafia, nonconsent, political mentions, praisekink, rough, seriously, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 52,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowGirl/pseuds/MarshmallowGirl
Summary: Emma has been RIleys princess since the third grade.Emma is stubborn, and mouthy, and hers.
Relationships: Riley Petrov(oc) Emma Woodford(oc)
Series: Rileys Princess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672195
Comments: 32
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there's a lack of lesbian kidnapping/abduction. so, uh..*jazzhands*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley is rich As heck. Emma is..not
> 
> Riley is used to people doing what she says.
> 
> Emma, doesn't
> 
> They've known each other since they were young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to my lovely editor person! This should be much easier to read now!

Ten years ago:

Emma stood in the doorway of her run-down apartment building with two cans of some off-brand diet soda held in one hand, and a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the other; watching Riley, who was bent over the old green car’s rusty engine. She worried her lower lip for a moment, staring at the tanned expanse of her girlfriend’s lower back, before stepping out into the humid Illinois sunlight. 

“Riles, you’ve been workin’ on this hunk of shit for the last three hours; it’s dead. Gone. Will you fuckin’ stop before I gotta call 911 because you passed out, or...I dunno, got shot or something?” Emma asked. “Look, I brought soda!” 

Riley sighed, shaking her head as she stood to her full height. “Language.” she scolded, brushing a hand through her hair, freeing it from the short ponytail she usually bound it in. “Em, why don’t you just let me buy you a car?” She took one of the sodas, leaning against the ‘junk-mobile’, studying the shorter redhead as she popped open the can and took a swig. Riley knew the answer, though. She’d tried ‘surprising’ Emma with a car when Em’s mother got sick, only for her to throw the tantrum of all tantrums and refuse to talk to Riley for almost a week. 

“Coz I said so! I’m gonna kick you in your nuts if you keep asking,” Emma snapped, even though her panties were decidedly damp. Who knew she had a mommy kink? She gave another almost-snarl, shoving the plate into Riley’s hands. “And quit tellin’ me to watch my fuckin’ mouth. Why are you so...so...BOSSY? It’s rude! You’re like one year older than me!”

Riley took another swig, mostly to keep herself from snatching the stubborn redhead, bending her over the car and beating her ass until she stopped being so, damn...~annoyingly~ stubborn. “My nuts’re in my closet.” she reminded Emma with a cheeky grin, knowing Emma would remember those ~special~ toys. Taking the sandwich and setting both plate and sodas on the hood of the car, she tugged Emma in, brushing the damp hair from her cheek. “Why don’t you just move in with me n’ my parents? Mama and dad love you like you’re their kid. Quit that fast food place, ‘n finish out yer last year ‘f school. Momma said she’d get you a tutor to catch up, or she’d homeschool ya too…”

And that was as far as she got before Emma tore herself out of her girlfriend’s grasp, shaking her head. “I...didn’t say anything about moving with you,” Emma pointed out, her voice dropping to a furious whisper. “Jus’ coz you’re goin’ to some fancy ass medical shit school, and...coz your parents are like, Just...” She ground her teeth. “You know what, Riles, you’re right, you’re movin’ and...I’m just...”

Riley shot to her feet. “ Don’t finish that sentence!” she warned, her eyes flashing. “I told you ten years ago you’re mine! Try it, Emma.” She growled, her voice harsh and low.

Emma held up her hand. “We were kids, Riley. Shit. We’re just now barely able to go down the street without being called fuckin’ dykes and getting shit thrown at me. YOU got nothin’ to worry about, coz your family’s like..I don’t know, the fuckin’ Russian mafia or some shit. But me? I gotta fuckin’ live here, so..just fucking...go fuck yourself!” 

Emma spun off out of Riley’s reach, only narrowly missing Riley’s grasping hand before stomping off to the house.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley has a talk with her mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these are really short chapters. sorry! It's like almost five in the morning and I'm posting and writing before I get scared and delete everything.
> 
> Also I've had to much caffeine. D:
> 
> Also, there's not a lot of sex, sorry. there will be some sex though! some day..
> 
> EDIT: More grammar edits, and spelling.
> 
> Also, I know nothing about Russian culture, tbh I'm pulling a lot out of my ass and from random 'bratva' themed books I read on amazon

The door slammed shut, just in time for a man in a sharply dressed suit to catch one of the ornate vases, righting it and watching with a bemused smirk as Riley Petrova; beloved, smart, caring, and incredibly spoiled daughter of Anya and Vaughn Petrov stormed in, a smear of grease covering her cheek, the ponytail she usually wore to show off the stylized undercut pulled out and hair a mess from the helmet she had just thrown across the marbled floor. 

“ Good afternoon, Miss Petrova,” William called in his smart, British accent, (because ALL the cool butlers are British), making his way down the hall. “I trust, by the gray hair sprouting from your head, your Miss Woodford is not being cooperative.” He paused, raising one well-manicured brow. “...Again,” he added, after a pause, not looking the least bit surprised.

Riley scowled. “I had to pick the ONE woman in the entire world who refuses shit.” She raised her voice in a mimicking high falsetto, which was actually nothing like Emma’s real voice, a gentle alto. “No, I don’t want to go to that restaurant, Riley, I want McDonald’s; no, don’t give me a five hundred dollar tennis bracelet, Riley, look at this pretty one from Claire’s!” Riley’s voice got louder and louder, even as her mother, a diminutive woman with flowing, dark brown hair and long rustling skirts walked through the parlor door. “NO RILEY, I WANT TO QUIT SCHOOL AND WORK THREE FUCKING JOBS EVEN THOUGH I CAN’T FUCKING...”. She instantly shut up once she saw her mother's disapproving glare, her jaw tensing. “Sorry ma,” Riley muttered, scrubbing at her face.

Anya Petrova crossed her arms over the chest of her fuzzy blue sweater, tapping her bare foot on the floor. “Would you like me to send your father?” she asked. “That girl...I should have kept her here when her mother, God rest her soul, passed on. She is a stubborn one, your Emmaline. She will raise strong children like my Riley.” Anya spoke fondly, padding over and reaching up to pat her daughter’s jaw before she licked her thumb, scrubbing at the grease spot. “Vaughn made sure she wasn’t overworked, but you know that girl. Vaughn could send his toughest and she’d probably laugh in their faces.”

Riley snorted. “She has,” Riley said with an annoyed sigh, following her mother into the kitchen while Anya bustled about. “Ma, she’s drinkin’ diet soda...I told her at least five thousand times not to drink that swill, I’ve stocked her fridge with sparkling water, even the cheap stuff from Aldi’s. She donated it, ma! I mean, I’m all for philanthropy but...” Riley sat down on one of the chairs. “She’s gotten worse n’ worse in the last year. ‘N now she don’t got a car, and threatened to do somethin’ very painful with somethin’ I don’t have if I got her one!”

“Doesn’t have a car,” Anya corrected, placing a plate of carrots and ranch, along with a glass of milk next to her daughter’s plate. Because, no matter how old her child was, she always needed a snack when she was angry; typical kid of any age. “Riley, I love your Emma, I do. I loved her since the day you brought her home with a skinned up knee, and she cried because we didn’t have PRINCESS bandaids!” 

Both Riley and Anya laughed, Riley rolling her eyes. “Because we were girls, and girls were princesses,” Riley mused fondly, munching down on a carrot. “And you said that I was a prince, because girls can be princes too, coz this is America.“ 

Anya nodded, sipping on her tea. “Yes, and princes liked dinosaurs.” Anya said. “But...I was saying, maybe it is time.”

Riley’s face got stony, and she shook her head. “No. She’s mine. I’ll wait. But if any one touches her I’ll break their faces,” she stated, standing. “Gonna go for a ride. Love you, ma.”

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twenty years ago-
> 
> TW: bullying
> 
> The bullying part is pulled almost exactly from something that happened when I was a kid, before I get "Kids don't do that" and "kids don't know what crack is"

20-something years ago:

“TINKI WINKI,TINKI WINKI!”

The crowd of kids chanted this, pointing at the chubby redheaded eight year old in the park. She was wearing a pair of purple, ripped sweats and a purple sweater, clutching her knee and crying softly. A dark headed boy held her doll aloft by its neck. And though the girl was clutching her knee, she was also reaching for the doll. “GIVE HER BACK!” she shrieked through her tears, sobbing out loud as the toy was chucked away into a mud puddle.

“Ugh where’d you get your clothes, weirdo? The dollar store?”

“Haha, you’re FAT!”

“Did you hear, the teacher even yelled at her today, coz she wasn’t paying attention!”

“It’s coz she’s dumb!”

The jeers kept on coming and coming, and every time the girl would stand up to fight away from the crowd, she’d just get pushed down again.

“Where’s your MOM?” 

“I bet she’s doing crack!”

The kids started chanting, teasing and jeering. “Yo’ Mamas on the Crack ROCK!”

Emma sobbed, screaming, “MY MOM IS AT WORK!” 

She barely even noticed the crowd parting, or a slender girl with straight, auburn hair pushing through the jeering throng, with ‘big people’ beside her. It wasn’t until the newcomer girl leaned down, then sat in the mud with her, staring at her solemnly, that Emma became aware of someone else, someone sitting in the freaking mud next to her...on purpose! One of the adults, a tall dusky-skinned woman with bright blue eyes and short hair gathered in a ponytail also crouched next to her, while the other man shooed the crowd away. 

“What is your name, child?” the grown-up asked, her voice sounding funny to Emma’s ears. 

“I’m..not s’posed to..talk t’strangers...” she said, hiccuping between each word, then pointing to her doll. “Can you please get Jessica a’fore she drowns?” Emma watched as the other girl scrambled away, grabbing her doll and trying to wipe it off on her fancy looking fuzzy coat.

The grown up gave a friendly smile, holding out her hand. “It is okay,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “I am Vera. Now we are not strangers, yes?” 

Emma sniffled, nodding and holding out her own hand, then looking at it and sobbing harder because it was ~dirty~ and the little girl hated getting dirty, or getting some stranger dirty too!  
“E..E..Emma.” she hiccuped again. She didn’t protest when she was scooped up, more surprised than anything. It’d been a while since she was last picked up and carried. Not that her mother was negligent, but Emma was a chubby girl, and her mom was..well... she was always working, thin and weak, too. 

“I am Riley,” the other girl said from beside Vera. “That is Mikhail.” Riley paused, as if she was searching for the words. Her speech patterns were much like Vera’s. “Mikhail used to be a girl. But now, he is a boy. Mama and Daddy said I can be a boy if I want to. But I don’t want to,” she exclaimed, all in a rush of friendly chatter. 

The one named Mikhail laughed, babbling something cheerful in a language that Emma didn’t understand; Riley giggling and saying something back to him in the same language. Emma sort of stopped paying attention, resting her cheek against Vera’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted from crying and all the other things that had happened to her today.

Emma must have fallen asleep, because not long after being carried away from the mud puddle, she found herself suddenly standing in a large hotel, bigger than she’d ever seen. She held onto Vera’s hand as they made their way across the fancy carpet, startled when she felt Riley gently grab onto her other hand. For some reason, she didn’t pull away, nor did she want to. 

“Do you know your parents’ phone number?” Vera asked as they knocked on a large, wooden door.

Emma nodded, rattling it off unthinkingly as they entered a doorway, then panicking when she saw the phone in the room. “She’s at work, at the diner, can only call for ‘mergencies!” Emma warned, frantically. “Th’ boss gets really angry, an’ he’ll fire mama and then we’ll haveta live under a bridge..like a troll!” 

As she babbled away, the door opened, and Emma stared at what was probably the largest, scariest man she’d ever seen, but he also had the kindest eyes! She scooted a bit closer to Riley, who squeezed her hand and smiled before they were ushered the rest of the way into the room. There were whispered words, and a phone was picked up and dialed.

“You should sit down, Mama will fix your knee,” Riley said, wiggling out of her muddy coat, while still clutching Emma's hand. Emma’s fingers were too cold, and Riley decided that if she could help it, her new friend would never be cold again! Riley sighed, letting go for just a second to slip her coat sleeve off that arm and dropping it on the carpet. A soft chastising voice came from behind her.

“ _My stavim nashi pal'to na pol?”_ (Do we put our coats onto the floor?)

 _“Niet, mama.”_ (No, mama.)

 _“Togda uberi pozhaluysta.”_ (Then put it away, please.) Anya bustled the rest of the way in, switching to English as she knelt in front of Emma. “Oh, poor dear! What happened, come, come, let me help, I will help! Vera, Mikhail, call this child’s mother at once!”

Emma sat down, watching Riley curiously while the smaller grownup pushed up her ripped up sweats. “And find something dry for her to put on,” Riley chimed in, surprising all four grownups with her request for that and a bandaid; then she paused as she suddenly remembered the chanting earlier, from the crowd. “What is a...tinki winki?” 

Emma spoke up. “It’s a Teletubby. Tinki Winki is the purple one. Amanda and Nikki say that he’s ‘gay’. I dunno what that means though,” she frowned. She liked the show, but this sounded like an insult, and she wasn’t sure why.

Anya looked uncomfortable for a moment, saying nothing. “That...that is a conversation you will have with your mother or father, when the time is right, my child!” Mikhail boomed, startling Emma, although, since no one else seemed to be frightened, she calmed.

“I don’t have a father, I have a mama,” she stated simply.

RIley piped up again. “I’ll be your..what is the word...Father!” she said cheerfully, thinking of the perfect solution to all this, and quite liking this little girl.

Vera smirked and muttered something in Russian, earning a slap at the back of her head from Mikhail, and a soft chuckle from the woman working on Emma's knee.

Emma canted her head to the side, but then blinked at the bandaged knee, knitting her brow. Usually the little girl wouldn’t make such a fuss, but right now she was entirely out of her element and feeling upset and unsettled. “That’s a dinosaur!” she whined.

“It is!” Anya agreed.

“But, I’m a girl! Girls are princesses,” she protested, feeling bad for complaining, but also very disappointed there wasn’t pink and glitter instead of this scary beast. 

“Anya chuckled. “Darling, this is America, girls can be princes too!”

Riley, from the bed she was bouncing on, shouted, “YEAH! And I like dinosaurs!”

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now(ish?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re-edited, and re-uploaded. Coz my bestie is awesome

Now:

Emma blinked. It seemed like everywhere she looked, she saw Riley, even while knowing she wasn’t really there. But, surely Anya or Vaughn Petrov would have said something to Emma, or at least to Mikhail and Vera, if Riley had come back around? Though Mikhail and Vera didn’t keep in contact as often as before, Emma knew Anya would still occasionally receive texts or pictures of random things from the pair. At least once or twice a month, either Vera or Mikhail would be stationed at Emma’s door, which pissed her off, even though she knew they were nearly always around, mostly unseen. She used to argue with this arrangement, once even attempting to backhand Vera, which went about as well as one would expect; a soft little girl trying to fight a soldier. Vera had promptly swept a foot under Emma’s leg and taken her to the ground. With a muttered threat of “Don’t test me, little one,” she’d helped Emma back up. So, now Emma knew...somehow her pseudo parents had “grounded” her to her apartment. She was comforted by the thought that at least she wouldn’t lose her job. Her boss didn’t dare fire her in Petrov territory.

It was day three, there were protests going on in her city, and she’d gotten three texts forbidding her to attend them; well, more like several texts from three people. It was Election Day, and people were very unhappy, some with the conservatives’ dangerous idea of a “candidate,” and some, angry with the liberal supporters for the other side. When the president was elected at the end of the night, she managed to slip out through a window despite the pair of guards standing at the door.

She had opened the door an hour ago, handing them each a cupcake. She’d been baking throughout the ordeal, because it calmed her nerves. “Come on, like, your rights are literally being taken away!” she tried again to convince them to let her go. “One, you both are immigrants! Two, you’re both LGBT. Three...” she paused, struggling with her thoughts, because she had been living off of diet Mountain Dew and a handful of M&Ms for the last three days, and her mind was beginning to spin dizzily. She’d guessed from the texts that she’d have guards outside, and sure enough, there were Mikhail and Vera. “And three,” she tried again, “I REALLY REALLY WANT TO GO!” she added triumphantly, stomping her foot like a child, her voice pitching up in a whine. 

Very gave a bemused look to Mikhail, watching their charge throw a tantrum.

 _“Pochemu my nyanya etogo rebenka??”_ (When did we become a brat sitter?), Mikhail asked, smirking inwardly. He gave the whining, stomping blonde a stern look, biting into the cupcake. Chewing, he smiled. “Is very good!” he praised in English, not entertaining her tantrum.

Vera snorted. _”Kogda Rayli reshila ostavit' yeye odnu, ona stala takoy. Yey nuzhno spat.”_ (When Riley decided not to take her in hand, she acts in this way. She needs a nap.)

Micheel nodded. _“i yeye nuzhno otshlepat'! Missis Anya ne poterpit etogo! Vozmozhno, vy mogli by“_ (And a spanking! Miss Anya would not stand for this nonsense. Maybe you could...”) He gave Vera a hopeful look, but she just shook her head.

 _“Niet, V proshlyy raz, kogda ya otshlepal yeye, Rayli ugrozhala razorvat' menya na chasti! YA budu stradat' mnogo unizheniy za nashu sem'yu, Mikhail, no ya ne budu pishchey dlya lamy!"_ (No! The last time I swatted her, Riley threatened to...and I quote: ‘rip me limb from limb and feed me to a llama!’ I will suffer many indignities for our family, Mikhail. The Petrov family has saved our lives, and Emma is, of course, part of the Petrov family. But I will not be fed to a llama!) 

Emma, exhausted, frustrated, and feeling incredibly ignored, let out an inhuman screech. “At least speak in English!” she yelled, sounding much like the protesters she detested, before slamming the front door as hard as she could. 

Emma repeatedly paced her apartment, from one end to the other. Her eye caught the window. She stared at the window, then back at the door, then the window again. “Jesus, you can’t really be thinking you’re gonna shimmy your ass out a second story window do you?” she muttered to herself, even as she made her way to the window, pushing it open and studying the drop. “It...wouldn’t be that bad, really?” she shivered, swinging one leg, then the other over the ledge. Then she dropped, groaning as the bush under the window caught her. “Yeah..it was that bad!! Ow! This is thorny! Shit!” Knowing there was no time to waste, she leaped to her feet, almost falling over again before righting herself and taking off for the crowd. She would do her part even if it killed her!

Across town, Riley stared at her phone, her mouth parted slightly in shock. “She wouldn’t!” she muttered, pushing her fingers through her naturally spiky hair. “She...that little shit!” Riley leaned back in the chair, then shook her head, sat up, and sent the bodyguards a text. “ETA 1 hour. 

***group texts***  
Riley: ETA: 1 hour  
Vera: You sure bout this, boss?  
Mikhail: she is sure ~annoyed emoji~  
Vera: ….  
Mikhail: She is gone  
Riley: My princess is a fighter ~heart eye emoji~ keep her in your sight!  
Riley: don’t be obvious, give her a last taste of freedom  
Vera: …

Riley smirked, then her jaw tensed as she switched to a news channel on her phone, watching as the protests got more violent on both sides. She knew her princess; especially the tired, undernourished version. 

Emma let out a sigh of relief as she finally untangled herself from the damn bush, righting her rainbow beanie and plucking the thorns from her hair. She checked her phone, biting her lip and staring guiltily at the string of texts from her de-facto parents, sending them a string of emojis along with a few saved selfies to pacify them. Then, she tucked her phone in her purse and headed toward downtown, her heart pounding. Why did she feel so guilty? It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d ever done this.

Her excitement and unease built a bubble in her chest, swelling when she saw the crowd. Giving a head nod to a friend of hers and his boyfriend, she wove through more of the throng, just as she felt someone spit at her! “Fucking whore!” the lady screeched, brandishing a bible at her.

Emma just sort of blinked, canting her head to the side. “That’s not very nice,” she stated, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that really what Jesus would do? I mean, I didn’t go to church much, but…”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT JESUS WOULD DO, FUCKING DYKE WHORE! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!” the woman screamed in her face.

“I...mean yeah, that’s why I’m here!” Emma said, faking a bright expression before dipping away into the crowd. She spent time weaving in and out, occasionally helping a person stand or offering to hold someone while they got overwhelmed, though she started to see pinpricks of light in her vision, not having eaten or slept properly before taking on this Herculean task. She’d just turned, her mouth gaping open at one of the horribly racist signs involving children, cages and a happy face, and then the next moment she was gasping for air, swaying back, and then forward, her fingers clawing for purchase and a rage-filled growl escaping her throat as she felt the prickle of tears in her throat. “HOW DARE…” she started to scream, and then a wall of black started to blur her vision as several familiar people crowded her, a strong arm sliding across her waist, tugging her away from the crowd.

“Shh, shh, c’mere, princess, daddys gotchu,” Emma heard, voice soft in her ear, the familar scent of cotton candy mixed with expensive cologne hitting her sinuses. She sank back against that wall of strength, panting softly. 

“‘N..wait, did you see...did you see what it said?” she sobbed. “Did you SEE?? How can someone, I mean, I kinda get why people...with us, I mean, it ain’t right but I get it...but...kids?” she gasped out, not making much sense. She definitely hadn’t registered that one, Riley was back, two, Riley had her in an ironlike grip, and three, Riley was coaxing her into an ambulance in an alley, surrounded by very familiar bemused bodyguards dressed like EMT officers. 

“I know, baby. Here, drink this.” Riley led her to a waiting cot, which should have been another red flag, uncapping the water bottle and handing it to her. “Jesus, Em, how did you get thorns in your legs? Here, put your legs up here, there’s my girl.” Emma obeyed, chugging the water. Her vision clearing, though her hands were still shaking, she leaned back against the cot, rocking her head to the side. 

“I’m glad you’re ba…” she blinked, pausing to look up at the face in front of her. Bright green eyes, spiky hair tipped with dark purple, a dinosaur and a crown tattoo on the wrist of the hand that was pushing her tangled hair back... “Wait...Riles?” she sat up, but several hands, gentle yet firm, pushed her back against the cot. “Riley, okay, this ain’t fucking funny...” Blankets were being wrapped securely around her, along with thick black straps across her body.

“I know needles freak you out, baby. Daddy put something in the water to calm you down,” Riley said over Emma’s head as Emma squirmed weakly, the cot being lifted into the ambulance despite her struggles. 

“Riley, stop! I’m gonna fuckin’ kick you into next week, I swear to god!” She swung her head back away from Riley, though it just hit the pillow. She watched blurrily as Riley started to pull things out; saline bag, tubing, and...yep, those were needles. Fuck.

“We got about a two-hour ride, and you were really dehydrated the last time you went to the doctor. I figure we’ll get some saline in you, something to calm you down ‘til we get home.” She paused, frowning. “Then again, you went to the doctor over a year ago, but...” Riley reached over, uncovering one of Emma’s arms and pinching it, watching the skin pucker, and she frowned. “Figures. You never liked water,” she muttered, with a shake of her head. “What, exactly, were you…”

There was a loud throat-clearing from the front of the ambulance, cutting Riley off. She sighed. “Yeah, okay, we’ll deal with that when we get home.” She glanced up at Emma’s face, the cap had already fallen off her head, her hair was frizzed out and eyes wide, making Riley press her legs together to stop the flow of wetness dampening her underwear. “God, you’re even beautiful pissed off and drugged,” she said with a laugh, before getting to work. “Just gotta...ahhh, there we go, see? My princess’s body always knows to do what I want,” she praised softly, finding a vein, sliding the needle home and taping the spot, ignoring Emma’s enraged shriek.

Emma squirmed until she felt Riley taping her arm. “Look, it’s been like, what? Ten years? I mean, you were off in like, Europe or Iraq or some shit. This is totally illegal, I mean, Like..SUPER duper illegal! Like…” she shrieked as the needle pierced her skin, interrupting herself. “FUUUCK!” Ooowww...” the last word trailed off in a whine. “As soon as I’m loose I’m callin’ the cops, and the Feds. And...and…” The last syllable was cut off because a dark pink pacifier was being pushed into her mouth

Her dark pink pacifier, the one Riley got her on her sixteenth birthday, the one Emma’s sucked on every night, and has had the nipple replaced twice a year. ...Which means Riley had been in Emma’s apartment! 

Riley winked as Emma instinctively sucked, tucking a soft stuffed bear between the rails and Emma’s dizzy head. “I had some stuff to do, but now I’m home, got a good six month vacation to get...” She paused, grabbing the pacifier as Emma spit it out, only to pop it easily back into her mouth. “To get settled in, we got a house, baby. Right on the lake, no neighbors for miles. Well, Vera and Mikhail are moving in too, but… Stop that!” Riley held her hand over the pacifier shield with a soft snicker, keeping her voice gentle while she talked. “Just close your eyes, princess, stop fighting it.” Riley waited until she felt the pacifier bobbing against her hand before taking her own hand away, settling back on the bench. “And there will be no drowning me, you, or them, do you hear me?” Riley teased, flipping open her laptop.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and they're home

“I have to pee!!” Emma’s urgent voice broke the quiet of the ambulance’s interior.

It had been an hour and a half, and though her brain was foggy and she kept slipping in and out of sleep, Emma seemed to be clearer, more alert. “And my nose itches! And did I mention kicking your head in? Coz, I kinda need to do that too.” She swiveled her head, giving Riley a feral, toothy smile.

“Mmm, just as violent as I remember...” Riley murmured, not looking up from the screen. “Do you want to stay like that for the rest of the night, princess? Because I have no problem with it. I mean, I’d rather have you in my bed, but that works too, It’s kinda hot, really. You all bound up like a fuzzy mummy q-tip.”

Emma shifted, stretching. “I really have to pee. Look, I know you got some weird kinks, Riles. Shit, we tried out most of them together! But, pissing in an ambulance isn’t one of mine. Can we stop so I can pee and stretch? You know, it’s really unhealthy to keep a person bound--”

Riley cut her off. “The ADA suggests that a person should be restrained, as necessary, for no longer than four hours at a time. I’ve been going to medical classes since I was seventeen, baby. I know what I’m doing.” Riley smirked. “And you can hold it, or use a bedpan. Do you need daddy to help you?” She glanced up, canting her head to the side in the way that made Emma want to both scratch Riley’s eyes out, and hump her leg like a dog in heat.

“No,” she said shortly. “And, why do you keep callin’ yourself ‘daddy?’ I mean, I know you got the whole butch thing goin’ on.” She paused. “Are you...not that I mind. I mean I lov..” she paused, gritting her teeth. “I mean you’re Riley whatever gender you ar-- Why are you laughing?” She kicked her leg, or just managed to twitch it, rather.

“Women can be daddies; girls can be princes...princesses never listen though. That’s a given.” She shut the laptop, shoving it in the bag before rising. The vehicle was running incredibly smoothly for being an ambulance, so it wasn’t hard for her to lean over and check the saline bag, and Emma's pulse. “Your heartbeat is a bit rapid, baby. I’m gonna give you another dose of Ativan. It’s okay if you pee; you have clothes at home.” She worked, despite the protests from the cot. “I guess I coulda put you in a gown, but I don’t think it woulda been easy. Of course you pick this one day not to wear a skirt...” She grumbled, discarding the syringe. 

Emma, of course, protested through the whole process. “This isn’t fair! I didn’t consent to this! The cornerstone of every relationship is fuckin’ consent, you asshole!” She paused as the drug hit her, closing her eyes for a moment before she let stretched, bending her toes. “Red?” she tried, wondering if shouting potential safety words would halt Riley’s plans. “Maroon? Blood, fire, death. DESTRUCTION?? GOD, why couldn’t I have found one of those fuckin’ tumblrina lesbians that’s all about consent and talking and feelings and shit?” she bitched, tears of frustration pooling in her eyes, She sniffled, not protesting when the pacifier was slipped back into her mouth, instinctively pressing her nose against the underside of Riley's wrist to breathe in the custom scent Emma had selected so long ago, along with the spicy smell that was just ~Riley~.

Riley’s gaze softened, watching Emma root around at her wrist, the pacifier bobbing under her nose. “You tried, baby. There was Laila, and Kiera, Jodi, and that one guy. They bored you to tears. You ain’t made for all that,” she explained, keeping her voice in that soft, gentle cadence even while Emma's eyes flashed and she squirmed. Moving her hand, Riley swept it down, under the blanket, until she met Emma’s leggings, pressing her palm against the apex of Emma’s thighs. “You ain’t made for anyone but me, baby. I shoulda locked you down sooner, mama said, but I thought I’d let you come to me.” She continued to talk, feeling Emma's hips shift, heat burning the palm of her hand. “This, all of this, is mine.” 

Emma groaned softly, turning her head to push the pacifier bulb out of her mouth. “Have you been fuckin’ following me? Like, actually tracking me? Are you insane??”

Riley smiled, feeling dampness pool around her hand. “Mmhm, yes,” she said simply, curling her hand until it touched Emma’s left thigh. “Chipped you, right here, the night I left, after I fucked you into a fucking coma.” She gave her own feral smile, leaning forward to stare into ~her~ girl’s wide, dilated eyes. “You’re mine, princess. Go ahead, have your little tantrums. Run away all you want. Daddy’ll always find you.”  
Emma shook her head. “You're lying! No one--literally NO ONE would allow that, or even give you the...the stuff.”  
Riley canted her head again. “Hmm...” She slid her hand out from the blankets, her nose flaring once at the scent of arousal; though, at least right now, she wasn’t going to point it out. Instead, she settled back again. “Seems like we’re almost there, princess. I’m gonna unbuckle you. Don’t do anything stupid. Vera is up front, and she’s been itching to tan your ass since you smacked her.” She leaned forward, working the buckles loose, while watching Emma warily.  
Vera called to them from the front, her voice still holding a hint of the Russian accent: “It is true. But I do not want to be llama food!” A cackling laugh came from the driver, who sounded suspiciously like Mikhail.  
“I hate you both!” Emma called, but didn’t move from the cot except to stretch her arms and let out a small groan.  
“You love us, princess!” Mikhail called from the driver's seat, making both Vera and Riley snort in a similar fashion.  
“Here, baby, give me your hand,” Riley ordered, and Emma gave her a wary look, bringing her hand closer to her body.  
“Why?” Emma asked, earning herself another small snicker from Riley.  
“So I can take out the IV,” Riley explained. Emma nodded, holding out her hand and squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t feel the IV slide out, but felt her hand being tucked back next to her. Looking down, her eyes blurred with tears. A glittery pink bandaid held the cotton ball in place. “See, I’ll always take care of my girl,” Riley said gently, pressing her lips against Emma's cheek, before wrinkling her nose. “That face cream tastes really gross, by the way,” she pointed out, busying herself with throwing away the shunt and tubing as the vehicle turned down a gravel drive.  
Vera crawled back, gently nudging Riley over and giving her a knowing look. Riley nodded, leaning forward. “We’re gonna lower you to the ground. The medicine probably made you unsteady, so I don’t want you hopping off,” she warned. Green eyes flickered over to meet the bright blue of her bodyguard/nanny/companion person. “I mean it, Em. It’s eight PM, there are no lights, and we are in the middle of nowhere. If you do anything stupid...” she began.  
Emma kicked her legs. “Yeah yeah, I get it. You’ll skin me alive and feast on my bones. I. Have. To. PISS! Can we get this fucking circus on the fucking road already?”  
“Language,” both Vera and Riley snapped at the same time, just as the door swung open. Vera hopped down, the firm ~clunk~ of thick boots hitting the gravel sounding just before the bed moved.  
“I’ve been on more Ativan than this, you know, and I could walk just fine…” But, of course Emma was ignored as the cot started to move.  
The wheels hit the ground and Riley started working on the straps, massaging Emma’s legs. “Don’t get up just yet, let the blood start to flow,” Riley warned, helping Emma swing to the side and onto her feet. She wrapped an arm around Emma’s waist, steadying her for a moment, while kissing the top of her head, nosing at the apple scented locks.  
A second later, Emma pushed her away. “Where’s my purse?” she asked, just as Vera handed it to her. Emma nodded, “Thanks,” she muttered, rooting around in the purse. “Where’s my phone?”  
“In my pocket,” Vera said, patting Emma firmly on her pert bottom before ducking under Mikhail’s arm. “I will hold it until such a time as Miss Riley says to give it back.” Both guards stood, Mikhail’s arm lazily over Vera’s, as they watched the pair, or rather, Emma, warily.  
Emma nodded. “Oh, okay..Thanks.” She flashed a smile, moving as if she was putting the strap over her head, before she suddenly swung it, aiming for Riley’s face and darting off towards the line of trees.  
The three stood there; Riley with an annoyed look on her face, Mikhail and Vera each sporting an amused smirk. “You owe me a dollar, Miss Riley; you said she wouldn’t do that until we got into your house.” Mikhail held out his hand, wiggling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture.  
Mmm...” Riley mused, pulling out her phone, then clicking on the GPS app to watch the bright pink beacon representing Emma’s thigh chip’s location. “Should we give her a couple minutes head start?”  
“Can I beat her now??” Vera asked, her palms positively tingling. There was no sexual tension; this was purely a Victorian-Minded Smackdown™. “I will go no harder than I do our girl or boy when they misbehave,” Vera promised, watching the shadow that was Emma in the dark, as Emma stumbled around, making little yelping sounds. Despite her words, Vera’s lips held the fond smile of an aunt.  
Riley sighed, gesturing. “I suppose I owe you that much, my friend,” she teased, stepping back. “She’s not very good at this, is she? Practice makes perfect, I guess-- Annd there she goes! Okay, cool, I’ll just...stand here, then.” She turned to Mikhail. “Do you find this kinda hot, coz I gotta tell you...” Riley trailed off, watching the action.

Emma, however, was almost instantly regretting her decision. Sure, Riley was fucking insane, and obsessive, and spoiled, and rich, and got almost everything she wanted, including Emma herself, but at least Riley wouldn’t kill her. At least, Emma didn’t ~think~ Riley would kill her. Would she? No matter, Emma just kept running, and tripping, and running again, mostly in circles, but it was hard for her to tell, with it being dark, and her brain spinning dizzily from the last Ativan dose.  
“Come, little Emma, Vera will not hurt you,” came a voice from the trees. Vera deepened her accent, knowing exactly what kind of effect it had on the redhead. Vera was a good hunter, and Emma was easy prey, all glitter and sparkles in the darkness of the woods. Vera followed easily, hearing the panting and gasping, and then a thud and a cry of pain. That made the woman speed up from a trot to a jog, before she stood over Emma, her hands on muscled hips. “Are you hurt?” Vera asked.  
Emma shook her head quickly. “Vera, you..know this is wrong, right? Like...you can’t just...take people and like...track them...and keep them! C’mon, man, what about sisterhood and all that...fight the patriarchy!” She raised her fist in the air, as Vera bit her lip to keep from smirking.  
“That does not work when you both are woman, little darlink,” she said in that same accent. She bent down, grabbing Emma by the wrist and easily tugging her up and over a muscled shoulder, landing several swats to Emma's upturned rear as she walked.  
“Ow, that hurts! Stop it!” the ginger howled, kicking her legs in protest. “You are literally a walking, talking stereotype!”  
Vera chuckled, flexing. “I am stronk Russian!” she teased as they hit the clearing, depositing a dazed Emma into Riley's arms. “One delivery, for Riley Petrova. Please sign here,” Vera pantomimed holding a clipboard and pen out to Riley.  
“Shoulda taken her tights, she won’t need ‘em,” Riley muttered, wrapping her hand around Emma's arm. “C’mon, princess, I’m really tired, and you need to sleep.”  
Emma dug her heels in, sending a stubborn glare toward her captor and jerking out of Riley’s arms. She flinched when Riley swung around, shoving a finger into the other woman's face. “I. Am. Tired. I have been arguing with a little brat for five hours. A little brat who never listens, who never sleeps and who never eats anything besides candy and diet Mountain Dew. Ten years, Emmaline. Ten years, I’ve been waiting for you to stop being a stupid little brat, come to your senses, and come home.” That hand moved from pointing into Emma’s face, to grab her princess’s auburn hair, tangling her hands into the messy locks. “You can pick up your little bitch act tomorrow when I have enough energy to fuck it out of you, but for now, shut the fuck up, and move your feet! Or, so help me, you won’t sit for the rest of the week!”  
Emma stared, wide-eyed, her mouth parted slightly in absolute shock, as she listened to Riley’s tangent, pressing her thighs together in a mix of fear, bladder control, and a little arousal, before giving a sharp nod. She followed the tug Riley gave to her arm, hearing muttering behind her.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside.
> 
> TW: mentioned of pee

The rest of the ride had gone smoothly, mostly because Emma was too tired to fight or complain, and in fact, passed out and fell sound asleep. Riley woke her up when they arrived, and Emma, still too tired and confused to fight, made the wise choice to walk down the short front walkway with Riley, to an ornate front door. 

The door swung open, and Emma tensed, not because she was assaulted with anything bad; but because upon entering the house, she suddenly had such a sense of “home” and “right” flood every corner of her brain, that she almost staggered backward. The ginger swung her gaze around the front hallway, her eyes going wide. This was all familiar. Everywhere she turned, there was something she recognized.

“I modeled it after your house in that...avatar game you play? Uh...Second Space?” Riley leaned down, whispering in Emma’s ear. “I even have the dungeon downstairs, and your little room in the attic,” she added proudly.

Emma swung her gaze up, staring into Rileys face. “You...play?” she asked stupidly. “Coz, I mean like, this is...” She wandered into the living room, staring at the light blue walls, then gazing fondly at the pictures framed there. They were the same as in her virtual sanctuary, all were pictures of her and Riley when they were younger, pictures of her mother, of Riley's parents, even Vera and Mikhail. She barely heard the door shut and lock, as she wandered to the open kitchen and dining room, letting out a watery laugh. “Where did you find a bright pink kettle with a happy face on it?” she asked curiously, fingering the cookware. 

“Amazon, I think, possibly Ebay, Mom did most of the shopping,” Riley said, smiling fondly. Emma’s reactions were everything she’d hoped for and then some. She felt relief that she had indeed done the right thing.

Emma jerked her head up, looking horrified. “Oh god, she didn’t see...I mean, nothing.” 

Riley laughed, shaking her head. “Naw, princess. She saw none of your weird kinky roleplay stuff. I did show her a lot of your kid stuff, but she already knew you were...” Riley paused, raising a brow, then glancing at the pot, suddenly drawing a blank on a word she knew well.

“You know, if the world knew that the scariest Russian in America was a Little and a walking sanctuary for queer soldiers...” Emma trailed off, then paused. “That's...not something I would tell anyone, by the way, I mean, no matter how much you piss me off, I love him and Vera way too much to ruin their reputations!”

Riley moved forward, wrapping her arms around Emma. “Everyone knows to come to him for stuff like that, and...well; really, who’s gonna piss off a two hundred and sixty pound little boy with access to a lot of money and a lot of guns?” Riley waggled her brows, leaning forward to kiss Emma, soft lips meeting hers as she walked them back against the table. “Can we maybe not talk about my parents right now?” Rlley asked with a soft chuckle against Emma's lips.

Emma smirked even as she followed those lips with hers. “Why?” she asked. “Does it bother you a bit? Make you angry? Y’know, like being stalked and followed...” 

Riley sighed softly, and in one quick move had swung Emma around, slamming her torso against the table. “You don’t know when to quit, do you, babygirl?” 

Emma squirmed, “No..not..fffuuuuck!” the last word gasped out as a loud clap was heard, followed by a sting on her buttocks, making her squirm in sudden pain and shock. “Riles, OWW, that fucking...Ow!” She kicked her legs as Riley landed smack after smack to her upturned rear, before pushing her shirt up and yanking her leggings down. 

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy’ll teach you...lots...” She straightened, landing a smack to Emma’s right cheek. “...And lots.” She landed a slap to Emma’s left cheek next, before lifting her other hand from between Emma's shoulder blades. “Stay.” she ordered roughly, landing a smack to her Emma’s thighs just for that last sarcastic comment. 

Riley squatted, lifting one leg, though she was ready to move back in case of a glittery donkey kick. She slipped each shoe off Emma’s feet, a kiss pressed to the sole of a fuzzy sock before she pulled Emma’s tights completely off. “Is that the problem, sweetie? Is it too hard being a human? Do you wanna be a puppy?” Riley teased once the tights were discarded. She slid her hands up over the swell of that reddened ass, tugging Emma’s scarlet cheeks apart. “I’m sure we could find you a tail, put it right here...” She teased, fingers hovering over that pink pucker, moving to press her other hand back down on Emma's back. “What’d daddy say?” Riley asked lightly.

Emma squirmed, squeaking with each smack. She tried to rise once, only to be pushed back down, and a flurry of stinging smacks landed from the swell of her ass all the way down to her sit spot. “Nnooo..I don’t want anything in my ass!” she protested, her voice lifting in a little whine as she rose up again, only to be firmly nudged back to the table. 

“Mmm. But I really, really don’t care what you want right now, princess,” Riley said softly, staring at those thick thighs and the pink, twitching center. “Daddy’s been doing what you want for a while. She’s been watching you fuck other bitches, ‘n try to be in control...” Riley slid her hand down over the slick petals, pushing her fingers against the flesh there, before trailing back up, fingers teasing along her ass hole. “That ain’t workin’ though, is it, baby?”

Emma whined, twitching as she felt Riley’s fingers, hearing that faint accent that always crept in when the other woman was tired, or pissed, or horny. She pressed her face to the cool table, resisting the urge to push back against Riley’s touch. “Did...” she shied away, feeling fingers teasing at her bottom hole, though Riley’s free hand easily nudged her back where she was wanted. “Did...I ever tell you how insanely possessive you are? I mean, this is like some lifetime movie sh...” She lost her breath then, because two fingers found their way right into her center, turning and curling just right.

“It’s okay, my princess, Daddy knows just what you need.” Riley breathed, kissing Emma’s thigh, right on the scar where the tracker had been installed, as she curled her fingers in, lifting Emma's torso up and off the table with each thrust. She waited until she heard the fever pitch of Emma's orgasm before adding a third finger and pressing hard against the other woman's swollen bladder, moving back a little as the urine spilled on the floor, then Riley straightened up to kiss away the tearful sobs before gathering her seizing girl in her arms. 

“Shit, fuck...Shitttt! Riley, I’m gonna..Nnnnn!” She clawed urgently at the table. “Daaaddeeee!” she squealed out loud, feeling her orgasm hit right before her bladder emptied. She laid there, against the table’s edge, twitching and sobbing from both humiliation and pleasure, pressing herself against Riley’s chest. “I’m sorreee!” she gasped out, barely noticing as she was led into the bathroom, a warm, wet towel gently passed over her legs, pussy and ass, and then she was helped into a plush bedroom. Riley slid Emma’s shirt off as she lay, sort of dazed, on the bed, still trembling.

Riley pulled Emma's top off, carefully unhooking the bra and sliding it down her girl’s arms before swinging Emma’s legs up the rest of the way into bed. She stepped back, watching Emma fade into sleep, before she stripped down into her briefs and bra, crawling in bed behind Emma; and for the first time in ten years, Riley fully, completely, relaxed.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> breakfast..didn't quite go as planned
> 
> (also, I really did get this idea off of some japanese hucow porno clip, the bottle part anyways)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-uploaded

Emma rolled over, curling around her bear and nuzzling into the blankets, a soft, annoyed grunt bubbling from her lips at the intrusive sound of early 90s rock. For a moment, she thought she was back in her apartment, the sound filtering from a car outside. She turned, finally prying her eyes open to stare at the gauzy blue and white canopy with a dreamy little smile.

Wait, a canopy? When did she get a canopy? Emma slowly sat up, taking in the room with wide, startled eyes. Plush, dark blue carpet covered the floor; the walls were a soft gray, and a large canopy covered the bed she was lying in, right in the center of the room. She moved to swing her legs off the bed, wincing as one knee hit a rail. “Fuuuck,” she said softly; and...then it all came back, and nope, she wasn’t dreaming! “Really, Riley?” she called, scrambling up on her knees and crawling to the end of the bed to escape the rails. She hopped down, studying the bed curiously. Beside the railing on what she assumed was “her side” along with the stuffed animals and various throw blankets lying there, was the one she’d pointed out in junior high, on a shopping trip with Riley. Riley had suggested she already had 8 blankets and didn’t need this one, buying her a bear instead. “Jesus, Riles!? Obsessive much?” she muttered, ignoring the warm feeling shooting into her chest. In the back of her mind, a small voice said, ~she remembered!!!~

She glanced down at herself, noticing the bare soft swell of her naked breasts, and…”Of course I’m naked, because you’re a big pervert!” she muttered, spinning off to pull one of the dresser drawers open, rooting through it. “Leggings, teeshirt...'' she listed to herself, opening and closing each drawer until she found what she wanted. Black leggings, baggy purple sweater; she quickly dressed, not bothering with socks. “Okay, shower,” she started, then, smelling the food, she debated; “Bacon, then shower?” Pushing the door open and padding down the hall, she sniffed at the air, then at herself and whispered decisively; “No, shower first, then bacon.”

She found the bathroom, with its light green marble tiles, fancy toilet, huge clawfoot tub and separate shower stall, staring in awe for a moment, before shaking her head. “This would be incredibly awesome, if it wasn’t so creepy,” she muttered, giving the big room a once over before tossing her clothes down, doing her business and heading to the shower to brush and scrub.

****

‘Morning, Princess,” Riley called from the kitchen. She didn’t need to turn around, busying herself with cooking breakfast, because she heard the soft footfalls of her girl, all sleepy eyed and shower-wet, probably smelling like some sort of fruit. “Breakfast is almost done. You still don’t drink coffee, do you?” she asked, nodding towards the percolating pot. 

Emma, freshly showered and dressed, damp hair braided and falling behind her back, stopped for a moment, catching her breath. The woman she both loved, and yet really, really wanted to punch was at the stove, short hair in that practiced messy style, sporting retro baggy jeans and a men’s undershirt. “Uhh..what?” she muttered, her mouth going dry. “Uh, no, yeah. No. Uh, I usually just have a soda in the morning. It’s friday, so...usually I’m at the coffee shop. Speaking of that, I’m--” 

Riley cut her off. “Not workin’ there any more. We can talk about you pickin’ work back up in a few months, though it’d be a lot quicker for you t’get your nursing degree if you just did that for a year or two. Sodas in the fridge. How you can drink that shit at...” she glanced at the microwave. “Nine AM blows my mind.” Riley teased Emma, plating eggs and fruit. “Grab the butter too.”

Emma scowled at Riley’s back, lifting up her middle finger, before she made her way to the fridge, pulling it open. Yep, right in the center was a six pack of soda, the bright green cans calling her like a beacon of hope and light. “Oh, thank god,” she muttered, pulling one out before grabbing the tub of butter. “Hey, Riles, this isn’t diet.” She pointed this out, studying the can with a frown. 

“That’s coz aspartame is poison. Did a study on it for my thesis.” Riley nodded toward the plate of toast. “G’on, grab that n’ come eat.” 

Emma closed her eyes, counting to ten in order not to give in to the impulse to throw the can at the other woman's head. “Riley, darling, beautiful, annoying, pain in my ass. I am not a lab rat,” she pointed out, but obediently grabbed the toast and trotted over to plop into the designated chair. 

“Uh huh, I’m not taking chances, princess.” Riley kissed the top of Emma's head, putting Emma’s plate in front of her, while Emma leaned over to plunk the toast down on the table.

“Y’know, I feel like I’m in some weird lesbian version of one of those smut books on Amazon,” Emma pointed out, picking up her fork and stabbing violently at one of the brightly colored fruits. “It’s not as hot in real life; in fact, it’s really, really annoying. Also abusive. And crazy...did I mention crazy?” she asked, popping the fruit in her mouth and taking a sip of her soda, her nose wrinkling slightly at the overly sweet taste. “Also, non-diet soda is fucking vile,” she muttered, though her headache was easing at the dose of caffeine.

“So, what you’re tellin’ me is...” Riley started, leaning her hip against the table and stabbing at her own plate. “You’re expecting the daughter of a well established criminal to not be at least a little crazy?” Riley pinched her fingers together at “little,” earning another annoyed glare from her captive princess. “I mean, it kinda goes with the whole “homeschool” schtick too, doesn’t it?” Riley poked at another bite of fruit with a fork, holding it to Emma’s lips. “And watch your language.” 

Emma parted her lips to take the fruit, then stopped, instead taking another swig of her soda, staring up into Riley’s face with a defiant glare. “Fuck you, Riley.” she said coolly, setting her can down and calmly spearing some of the scrambled eggs. “Seriously, Fuck. You. Did I mention F..mmph!”

Riley’s hand tangled into Emma's hair, tugging Emma’s head back and pressing their lips together, her own plate crashing to the floor as she yanked Emma out of the seat. “S’okay, princess,” she muttered, in between little kisses and nips, pinning Emma's hands behind her back. “We’ll figure this out, yeah? Daddy’ll teach you.” She pivoted, sitting in the chair Emma had been yanked out of before pushing Emma to the floor, pinning Emma between her legs and squeezing them around the princess, pushing her into place.

Emma struggled for a moment before melting into the kiss, little mewls and grunts fading into a soft whimpering sigh. And then she was on the floor, kneeling on spilled eggs and staring up with tears in her eyes, wiggling in Rileys snake-like grasp, watching as her captor calmly speared a bite of eggs, holding it to Emma’s mouth. She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. 

“We got all day, babygirl. I was hopin’ for some Netflix and chill, maybe a walk around the property an’ feedin the ducks. But we can do this too,” Riley said, feeling Emma double down, watching her grit her teeth and stare into Riley’s face. The only sign of the other woman’s annoyance was the slight narrowing of her eyes. 

“Emma, I have three ways we can do this,” Riley said calmly, setting the fork down. “Two of which you really, really won’t like. There’s tubes, and possibly throw-up, and I’m really not in the mood to deal with all that this early in our rekindling relationship.” Wiping the tears from Emma's cheek, she nudged the fork against those plump lips. “Open for daddy,” she ordered softly, nodding when Emma slowly parted her lips, taking the egg and pulling it off the fork with her teeth. 

Emma stilled, her eyes popping wide. There was no way Riley would, would she? Quickly assessing her options, she sank to the floor, criss-crossing her legs and opening her mouth. She didn’t chew, just sat there quietly while Riley turned to spear another forkful of eggs. Tilting her head up, she suddenly spit, an almost evil sort of smirk curling her lips at Riley’s surprised intake of breath when the egg hit her face.

They both stilled, Riley muttering something in Russian as she calmly set the fork down. Emma moved to scramble back, but Riley lashed out, grabbing her shirt and pulling the shorter girl closer. “You are really, really, fucking trying my patience, Emma,” Riley stated, accent slowly creeping into her voice, while her hands moved to yank down the thin black leggings. “I have watched people get tortured, and they didn’t act as stupid as you are right now. Is it coz you know I won’t hurt you?” Another yank and the thin fabric tore, Riley manhandling the struggling ginger on her lap. “Coz let me tell you, girl, you are not going to win this.” She raised her voice. “Alexa, Call Vera.” 

Emma was screeching loudly during the whole tirade. She knew Riley would never seriously hurt her, but she would still do ~things~ to bend her to Riley’s iron will...and why was Riley taking off her damn pants, her only thought; what the fuck, Riley? Emma panted, trying to catch her breath as Riley's arms snaked around her middle, holding her still as Riley stood, leaving the mess on the floor to be dealt with later. Hearing the door open, there was silence, then a soft voice. “You sure about this, Miss Petrov?” But Vera didn’t wait for an answer, setting a baby cow’s bottle down full of some weird substance, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest, watching warily. Vera was there to observe and assist as needed. 

“Yes,” Riley said shortly, settling in an armchair, grunting softly at the bite she’d earned on her wrist, before landing a sharp smack to a now bare thigh, the pale flesh instantly turning pink. She landed several more slaps, sending Vera a glare when Vera stepped forward to intervene. 

“Maybe this is too far, yes?” Vera said gently, switching to Russian. _“Zayti slishkom daleko, Miss Petrova.”_

RIley glared, her jaw set in a familiar stubborn line. _“Ona. Yavlyayetsya. Moy.”_ (She. Is. Mine.) She gritted her teeth as she said the words, snapping her fingers and pointing to the bottle. _“Ona nauchitsya.”_ (She will learn). Vera opened her mouth again, but snapped it shut at the soft growl coming from Riley’s throat, and holding up her hands in reluctant agreement, she stepped back. “You may leave,” Riley told Vera, then, switching to English, she said sharply “Emmaline, Enough!” This unsurprisingly caused the struggling girl to still, letting out a hiccup and falling silent.

Emma grew more quiet, her head arched back at the tug of her hair. “Riley, baby, you need help. This isn’t normal! This is literally an obsession.” She babbled, letting out a frightened sob, trying to convince Riley that this was crazy. “This is not jus...just looking up my facebook pictures! You literally kidnapp...Hmmph.” She let out a breath of air as she was squished, Riley leaning forward to palm the bottle. Emma caught her breath, saying the words more clearly. “Kidnapped me. Tracked me! Why? You could literally get any person you want--”

“Shut up, Emma!” Riley snapped out, hearing the other girl’s teeth audibly snap shut. She gave the bottle a shake, snaking her hand around to settle Emma’s head and neck into the crook of her elbow. “I’ve given you time; a decade,” Riley reminded her, presenting the bottle to those pouting lips. “You were made for me; you are mine...you--” She paused, staring into those glittering eyes, then let out a soft, almost sad sigh. “We’ll try eating like regular people at dinner, since you couldn’t handle breakfast. Open your mouth.” 

Emma whined, shaking her head as the warm, viscous liquid dripped over her lips, twisting her head when she felt Riley’s blunt fingertips digging into the side of her jaw, forcing her mouth open, the rubbery nipple slipping inside. “Y’know, I got this idea watchin’ some weird Japanese porn,” Riley mused, watching her girl try to push the rubbery nipple out. “Thought it would be better than a regular bottle, y’know.” Riley sighed. “This is the stuff we feed old people though, very high in nutrients.” She massaged the spot where her fingers had pushed. “Daddy knows you got some sort of oral thing goin’ on, yeah?” she asked softly, squeezing the plastic bottle, knowing that Emma would instinctively swallow to prevent drowning. “We can make this our mornin’ thing. Get up, snuggle on the couch; it doesn’t have to be like this every minute, sweetheart. Just let daddy take care of you.”

Emma whined softly, kicking once but settling down. It wasn’t like she really had a choice, right? At first she was letting whatever was in the bottle pool in her mouth, but with the large nipple, her mouth was well and truly plugged, so she had to swallow, the fight left out of her. Thighs stinging and her body betraying her, she let Riley’s words soothe her. Rhythmically sucking and swallowing, she started to feel almost too full after a bit. Somehow, Riley sensed her body’s needs. The nipple was pulled out of her mouth, her shirt lifted to wipe her mouth. Then Emma turned her head, crying quietly into Riley’s soft chest.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback-age thirteen/fourteen
> 
> Riley explains the hierarchy of their relationship

Flashback, Age 13

Emma tossed the thick math book on the pockmarked kitchen table, wrinkling her nose. “I hate you,” she informed the brightly colored, smiling faces on the book’s cover, flipping her wrist up to check her watch, a birthday present from her best friend. “Three, mom should be home soon,” she muttered, toeing her shoes off and reaching to answer the phone as it started ringing. On her way to the fridge to study the insides for a snack, she smiled when she heard who was calling. 

“Yooo, princess!” The lightly accented voice on the other end, which belonged to her bestie, Riley Petrova, caused those odd butterflies to course up her belly again. Like that one time she saw Britney Spears...no, not Britney Spears, uh..Justin Beiber, yeah. Him. When she saw...him...in a short skirt. Emma rolled her eyes, pulling a frozen pizza out of the freezer as she caught her mind wandering. Girls liked BOYS, unless ya liked being a bully target at school. 

“Oh my god, stop calling me ‘princess’!” Emma demanded, though there was no heat in her words. This had been an ongoing thing since they were super young. And, they were ~almost~ in high school now. Or, at least ~she~ was. Riley only took Gym class at regular school; the rest of the time she was tutored in that palatial mansion Riley called her house. 

Riley snickered at the other end, holding her cell in the crook of her arm while rooting around her closet for her helmet. She didn’t have many rules, but one steadfast one was “No riding your bike without a helmet!” That rule was firmly implanted on her ass once last year, and it was one she wouldn’t soon forget. “But you are a princess, all glittery and pink an shii….stuff.” She winced, giving a nervous look at the door. “Anyways, your mom called, she said she was goin’ out tonight, an’ you could come to dinner. We’re having that gross meatloaf stuff, mom’s making it just like you like it, with all the onions and the ketchup...ahhh, there it is!” Riley swung her helmet up proudly, then winced as a lamp crashed to the floor. “Figured we could do homework together ‘n watch movies. I got that cheerleader one you wanna see, and on DVD, High Def Bay-bee!”

Emma scowled at the pizza. Though Anya's meatloaf was so much better than frozen pizza, she knew if her mom was going out, that meant mom was going to “The Boat,” a moniker for a casino anchored on the edge of the Mississippi. Which meant that whatever money she had saved up for rent would be gone, unless, by some rare stroke of luck, mom won. Hint: she never won, except for that one time. Already they were getting calls from bill collectors, and Emma was fending off the landlord with “Oh, mom isn’t here, She’ll be in soon!”

“Em, you there, homie?” Riley asked, her voice coming over the line, causing the redhead to startle herself, and then laugh.  
“Jesus, never, ever use the word “homie” again. Seriously, you can’t pull off gangster! Uh...nah. I’m totally swamped, Mr. Thomas has been ridin’ my ass about my book report. I’m just gonna stay in, but call me later? Like, when your minutes are free or whatever, I don’t know how that stuff works.” 

Riley dropped her hand, biting her lower lip as her stomach knotted. That feeling was often a sign that Emma was going to do something incredibly dangerous or stupid, usually for, as Em put it, ‘funzies.’ But, sometimes, she did things to get herself and her mom out of some kind of bind or another, which, even at fourteen, Riley knew, was not the way things should go. She knew arguing wouldn’t really help, though. Emma would just roll her eyes and put her hands in that incredibly stupid ‘w’ for ‘whatever,’ before bursting into those giggles that warmed Riley’s heart and made her skin flush, so Riley just nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure. We can hang out tomorrow and put on that horrible crap music you listen to all day,” Riley teased. They said their goodbyes and hung up

Riley paced the length of her room, back, and forth, and back again, her helmet discarded on her bed. She didn’t actually have homework to do, since she did her school stuff mostly at home, only starting gym in public school when she’d heard through the grapevine that Emma was getting bullied. Emma would never tell Riley the extent of it, just saying “Some stupid skanks pushed me against a locker,” or “I ‘unno some bitch threw a ball at my head in P.E., but it was Dodgeball, so what do you expect?” But Riley, or rather, Riley's parents had people watching the school. They’ve been trying to get Emma to take her classes with Riley, but she gave Anya, Vaughn and several of the tutors polite ‘no thank yous’. And for Riley she had a special “I swear to shitfuck if you ask me again I’m gonna blast N’Sync until your ears bleed” threat on repeat.

Emma paced the floor, pretty much mimicking Riley’s movements on the other end of town. “Shit, fuck...shit, fuck...” she continued to mutter every ‘bad’ word she could think of, consisted mostly of those two on repeat, jumping when the phone rang in her hand. “Hello, Woodford residence, May I ask who’s speaking, please?” she parroted, pausing as her heart sank. “Yeah. Oh, totally, ummm..mom is at work right now and I don’t think she kept the rent here, Ma’am, but..um… Oh, yeah, I know it’s late, but, like..I have no money..I mean, yeah, I know..I’ve been trying to get a job..but y’know..gotta be sixteen to do that.” She paused. “Ohhh, you had a job at thirteen? Well, I guess I better just try harder!” she stammered, feeling the flush of a panic attack starting. “Mmhm, yep. I will make sure mom calls right when she gets home. Uh huh, g’bye!” She hung up the phone, dropping it on the counter as if it had scalded her hand, gasping more panicked sounds as her world started going blurry.

“Ohgod, ohgod..I can’t live in moms car, I already get in trouble for smellin’ like smoke! Anya keeps an entire closet of clothes for when I go over there coz I stink so bad! FUUUUCK!” she thought out loud, making her way into the living room. She stared at the brightly colored computer, another gift, though this time from Vera and Mikhail, who refused to take it back, and, unbeknownst to her, threatened her mother with bodily harm if she pawned it to feed her gambling habit. “It is for the work from home!” Mikhail had informed Emma. “And for the...Backstreet Sinkers,” Vera added, nodding wisely, still in her usual stance, her arms crossed over her chest, feet planted apart. 

But now, Emma was going to do something truly horrible. She started up the computer, connecting to the internet and going to the fridge to grab one of the new energy drinks that came out, popping the tab and taking a drink, her mouth puckering. “Ugh, Riles, you’re right, this is disgusting!” she muttered, before padding back into the living room and sinking into the rickety chair. She pulled up Yahoo, hesitating once before typing in her question.

“How to send bad pictures for money”

There was a list of random things she clicked through, but it made no sense. “Sale dirty pictures”. No...not that. “I want to sell naked pictures.” That got her more hits. She chewed on her lip, reading everything carefully before finding the hidden Yahoo chat rooms.

****

“Missus Petrova, we have a problem.” It was Mikhail, speaking in his native tongue. a panicked look on his face. As always, Vera was not far behind, though the usually stoic woman looked both worried and incredibly angry. Anya looked up from the newspaper, standing. 

“What is it? Is there a problem with a shipment? With a buyer, seller? ….Riley? Oh god, where is my daughter??”

Vera shook her head. “No, Ma’am. We found some troubling things coming from Miss Emmaline's ISP. If you permit, we will go to her apartment right now and bring her to you.” 

Anya gave a gentle smile, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is she looking at the pornography? Psssh, children do that around their age. You have put parental blocks, no? Only the soft stuff, the..ahh, breasts and chests, and maybe bottoms can be seen? Do not worry, my friends. She is just explo--”

Vera cut her off, something that she would never do if it wasn’t incredibly urgent. “No, Ma’am! She is asking the Yahoo how to sell pictures of her body for money! I am hearing that Miss Woodford has been having trouble paying the rent.” 

Anya's face hardened. “Please block her access. I am sure she is doing this in a moment of panic. I will go speak with her.”

“I’m goin’ with.” Riley’s sudden entrance caused all three to jump, turning to the doorway. There stood Riley, her hair slicked back off her face falling to her ears, wearing wide JNCO jeans, black tank top, and a stubborn look on her face. It would almost be comical to the three adults if she didn’t look so angry and scared. 

“Yes, yes. Of course. You must go to your Emma, Riley.” Anya gave her daughter a gentle smile as the pair in black headed out to ‘base’. They’d already throttled Emma's internet to a crawl, but there wasn’t much else they could do right now without drawing attention. 

Riley nodded once, her back straight as she headed to the door. “Where’s dad?” she asked, pushing her bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes and dropping her phone into one of the deep pockets of her jeans. 

“Away on business.” Anya said vaguely, as she hurried to get her shoes and purse, gently herding her daughter through the door and into the dark blue minivan. “Please put on your seatbelt,” she reminded Riley.

Riley sighed dramatically, but obediently bucked her belt. “Can we go now, ma, before some nasty old guy starts pullin’ his...” She cut herself short, wincing as her mother gave The Mother Death Stare. “Ahem. I mean before she does something inappropriate,” Riley finished, plastering on a placating smile as they pulled out; still getting the stare of death even as Anya was secretly impressed with her daughter’s knowledge. 

“Riley, back home in Mother Russia...” Anya started. “There can be a...how you say...hierarchy. Now, usually it is the man who is in charge, and sometimes these relationships start very young.”

“You’re in charge of dad!” Riley pointed out, flashing a cheeky smirk.

Anya let out a little puff of laughter, her eyes flicking up to check the rear view. “Well, we are less traditional, more of a partnership. Your father takes care of the business, I take care of the home. What I am saying is, I think you and your Emma have a special bond, and, I think she needs a man her age to--”

Riley let out a long suffering sigh that only teenagers can make; the one that sounds like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders and everyone's out to get them. “Mom! I am not a dude! Oh my god. We’ve been over this like, ten billion times. Just coz some dudes were born chicks and some chicks were born dudes, doesn’t mean I’m like that. I am fully happy to be a chick. Vera’s a chick and she’s the dudiest chick that ever...I don’t know...dude-ed. Yay, womanhood! Yay periods!” Riley paused. “Actually, the periods are kinda gross,” she mused to herself.

Anya swallowed, fighting hard not to laugh, because this was a serious, and very strange conversation, but one that needed to be had. Her daughter, while quite boyish, was much like her, and she knew how hard these feelings were, especially in more progressive relationships. And both Anya and Vaughn knew their beloved daughter was homosexual, and her heart belonged to Emma.

“BE that as it may,” Anya finished. “Your Emma has had a hard time with things. Her mother is very permissive.” 

“You and dad are...” Riley made air quotes, “‘permissive’ and I’m not putting my boobs on the internet or cussin’ out teachers or eatin’ that nasty shii….shtuff.” 

“Yes,” Anya said with a nod, reaching over to give her daughter a light smack on the leg at the almost curse word. “But you also have many opportunities that our Emma did not.”

“That’s coz she doesn’t take them!” Riley yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Mom, I literally gave her like sixty bucks to get a new pair of shoes the other day, coz her sneakers are totally falling apart. She stared right at me and threw it back at my face. I went out and BOUGHT her the shoes. She donated them! Like, sixty dollar shoes, mom? Hers are gonna fall apart in a week anyways. I don’t get it!” 

Anya pulled up to the apartment building, shutting the car off. “She is proud, my darling, but soft. You are strong, yes. And it is not about the things you give her. It is about keeping her safe, like we keep your father safe, and your father keeps the soldiers protected. Then the soldiers keep the business so, yes?”

Riley blinked, knitting her brow, but nodded, pushing the door open. She unbuckled her seatbelt, staring at the dark window on the second floor, before making her way resolutely to the door. Anya privately thought her daughter would look much, much more tough if her pants weren’t sagging to show off the dinosaur underoos underneath.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get the picture of a tough looking middle school tomboy in baggy jnco style jeans with a flash of dino underoos out of my head. and every time it makes me snicker.
> 
> **
> 
> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pt 2
> 
> 13/14

Anya, who had followed Riley up to the apartment immediately jerked to a stop, reaching out to pull Riley away from the door. “ _Niet!”_ she hissed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small handgun. The door was cracked open already, and the sounds of thumping and screaming came from inside. Riley rushed forward, only to get pulled back again and shoved behind her mother, as Anya pushed the door all the way open, staring at the scene. 

Inside, two ‘soldiers’ were crowding the computer, one clacking away at the keys, while Vaughn, in all his glory, stood next to the couch, his arms crossed and a stormy look on his face. And then...there was Emma, having a full blown panic attack, wrapped up in several brightly colored throw blankets, pressed to Vera’s chest like an enraged cat, her bare, pink toe nails glittering with each furious kick. Anya blinked at her beloved, a puzzled expression on her face as she gestured to the room full of chaos.

“She was on the camera, doing a..how you say, show, for several people,” Vaughn stated, his voice low, and his English more broken than usual. If he’d been less embroiled in the chaos, he’d probably have spoken in Russian. “Without a stitch of clothing on! After Vera collected her…”

Vera piped up, her voice rising above Emma's shrieking curses. “Riley, your Emma...she bit me! Please be careful to not to anger her when you two..hrmph!” Mikhaill placed a hand on Vera’s mouth, covering whatever she’d been about to say, though Vera’s bright blue eyes still glittered with amusement.

Vaughn continued to narrate the complete mess he’d stumbled into, watching his daughter stare at the scene, then stiffen her shoulders and move to her bodyguard, holding her hands out for the Emma-burrito. “We have destroyed all of the video, and are working on tracking each user. It may take a while. I suggest you take the children home for the night.” Vaughn wasn’t worried about Riley seeing anything, she’d seen a lot worse than a few people hunting down pedophiles. But Emma, despite her really, really loud pterodactyl screeches, was made of softer material.

***

Emma sagged against Riley, burrowing her face into the spot between Riley’s neck and shoulder. “Your dad scared me!” she accused as she was half led, half carried into her room as the door was firmly shut. She sniffled softly, her face a mess of poorly done makeup, snot and tears. She wiggled out of the blankets, letting them fall before stomping over to her dresser, yanking it open and sorting through her stuff. “You can’t just go bustin’ in to other people’s houses shouting in weird voices!” 

Riley stared. She couldn’t help it. There was Emma, soft curves, still clinging to just a little more than baby chub, tangled red hair Riley’d helped color with markers. And naked. Sure, her makeup looked really bad, but to Riley, the vision was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. Catching herself staring, she quickly averted her eyes. Hunting around for kleenex and finding none, she settled for a clean sock, dipping it in a glass of water.

Riley turned back, to Emma, who was on her way to the door. Reaching out to grab Emma's arm before she could get the door fully open again, Riley slammed it shut. Emma was now covered in a bright purple t shirt and a truly hideous overall dress that Riley had previously vowed to burn several times. “Sit.” Riley ordered, pointing to the bed. 

“You gotta quit bossin’ me around!” Emma snapped, even as she obediently flopped down on the bed, a morose look on her face. She jerked when the cold sock touched her hot cheek, but tilted her head up to let Riley work on taking the makeup off her face, turning her head this way and that. 

“Jesus! What did you use, spackle?” Riley snarked, scrubbing a bit harder. “Eesh, sorry, princess,” she muttered, realizing she was being a little rough. “God, why did you put this stuff on? It’s like, glued to your face, Em!” She raised her voice at the knock on Emma's door. “Enter!” 

“Yeah, go ahead, enter ~my~ fuckin’ room,” Emma muttered, yelping at the sharp pinch to her jaw, though she had the sense to look guilty when she heard Anya’s chiding about ‘language’ mixed with Riley’s. “Sorry, Anya.” she muttered, “Y’all can leave now.” She smirked a little, defiant despite everything that had happened. “I got enough money, and I didn’ have to ask for it!” she said proudly, giving Riley a glare at the second pinch, this time to her arm. “Stop fuckin’ pinchin me!” 

Anya let out a soft “Hmm” sound, setting a jar of cold cream on the bed to replace the sock and water. “You will be staying with us tonight, Emmaline. This is not up for discussion. You may sleep in your room, or if you wish, have a..how you say..camp out?...in the living room with Riley.” She gave Riley a meaningful look, handing her a damp cloth before quietly exiting, the door shutting gently behind them. 

“You’re lucky I don’t ground you to your room forever,” Riley muttered, still crouching in front of Emma and trying to scrub off the blush, though the cold cream ~did~ help. “Every person who saw you is gonna die, you know that, right?” Riley’s jaw was set as she tossed the rag beside the bed. “Painfully. Incredibly...painfully. Vera’s workin’ on it now. The last dude that she found lookin’ at kiddie porn? She sliced off his nuts and made him eat them. She let me watch. What do you think’s gonna happen to the fuckers who looked at someone we actually care about?”

Emma knew the Petrov family was dangerous. They were known around her town, though Riley had never spoken openly about ‘the business’ to Emma, until now. She drew back slightly, scooting up the bed to press back against the wall, watching Riley rise to her full height, all gangly limbs and fury, and there was that funny feeling again. Ignoring it, Emma lashed out. “I don’t know who the ever loving fuck you think you’re talkin’ to, Riley Petrova, but you can just...just fuck off with that shit!” She snapped. “You got some mafia shit goin’ on, an’ you’re here talkin’ shit to me? Bull..fuck! And, mom’s gonna be home soon, she’s gonna freak out when...” Emma's words were cut off, finishing in a shriek, as Riley yanked her forward by her ankle. 

Riley had reached out, wrapping her hand around one of those bare ankles and yanked, hard. Mostly to shut Emma's tangent up before it kept going...and going, as she knew it would have.  
“Mom’s makin’ sure she’s winning and not about to come home right now, so quit cussing and get the stuff you wanna take with. You don’t need clothes; they stink like smoke. D’you want Mister Beary or Sasha t’night? We can febreeze them. N’ where’s your meds? An’ the vitamins mom got you? Never mind. We got some at home.”

Emma stared at her ceiling, or rather, specifically one of the glow in the dark stars she and Riley had put up during the ‘Great Sixth Grade Move’, a bit stunned. Riley was bossy, sure. Annoyingly so. But this was...different. Emma’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, before she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face and wrinkling her brow, a startled look on her face. Oh god...did she pee? “You made me pee!” Emma accused Riley, glaring. “And why can YOU cuss, but I can’t??” 

Riley snorted softly, grabbing Beary and Sasha. “We’ll take both of ‘em,” she muttered, sorting around in the little white vanity. “That’s not pee, dummy,” Riley informed Emma, with all the know-all sass of an eighth grader. “And, coz I’m the head of home! Uh...head of...house? Coz I’m in charge and I said so. Princess’s don’t cuss. Yo, Emma, meds! C’mon, let's get this show on the road.” She tucked the stuffed animals in the backpack. “You’re not going to school tomorrow, but prolly should bring your homework too; math, right? You needed help with long division anyways..it’s totally a breeze.”

Emma just...kind of stood there, stunned. Also, there was a strip of Riley's stomach showing each time she moved and talked...and talked and talked...and a peek of boxers, and oh my god is she getting boobs? Emma shook her head quickly, clearing the teenage-hormone-ohmygod-I’m-totally-gay cobwebs. She pointed an indignant finger at Riley’s face. “FUCK SHIT..PISS..SHIT...COCK..TIT!” she screamed, spinning on her heel and yanking the door open again. “You can’t tell me what to do, Riley Petrova! You’re NOT my mom!” 

RIley blinked, tossing the backpack over one shoulder and following after Emma. It was almost like a light bulb just *pinged* in her head. Emma was hers. Emma does what ~she~ says. Like Willow and Tara, but..without all the magic and leaving and stuff that had bugged her about the Buffy show. 

“SHE MADE ME PEE!” Vaughn was on Emma's couch, drinking a cup of coffee from the gas station down the road. Anya was next to him, reading a book; but it was Vaughn Emma was directing her finger at. And, the man looked terrified, the cup half to his mouth, the clack-clacking of the computer (and other various machines the author has no clue about) pausing suddenly at this outburst. 

“Do you need a change of underpants, Miss Emma?” Vera asked, her voice strangled with laughter, as Vaughn spoke out of the corner of his mouth, and in Russian, just to be on the safe side: 

“ _Yesli ya ne budu dvigat'sya, smozhet li ona menya uvidet'_?” (If I do not move, can she see me?)

Mikhail swallowed a snicker, answering his superior’s question while trying not to smile. _“Vy stolknulis' s mnozhestvom lyudey s oruzhiyem i nozhami. No eto yarost' trinadtsatiletney devochki, kotoraya stavit tebya Vy koleni?”_ (You have faced crowds with guns and knives, but it is the fury of a thirteen year old girl who sends you to your knees?)

And from one of the soldiers, also in Russian: “Sir, I was once a thirteen year old girl. I can confirm they are terrifying. I will face down many, many things for you, but not a thirteen year old girl, alone. You can take my head; I will gladly give it to you on a platter, but this I will not do.”

Riley wrapped an arm around Emma's waist. “Don’t mind her!” Riley called in Russian, tugging Emma back into the hallway, out of the living room and away from all the frightened soldiers. “Crazy Americans, am I right? Just whooo! Hahaha!” She switched back to English. “Hey, one of you guys find her meds? Should be in a bottle with her name...” Pushing Emma back into her bedroom, Riley pulled the door shut, then slammed Emma up against it with a thud.

Vaughn sat his cup down at the sound of a body hitting the door, rising to his feet, but a gentle hand placed on his forearm settled him back. Shaking his head and sticking to Russian, he protested Anya’s hand, his face full of concern. “They are fighting, my love! Riley could really hurt her...Emma is all words, but our girl...” 

Anya shook her head, explaining in the same language. “The dinosaur and the princess are working things out. Do not fret. No one is in any real danger.” They both sat back on the couch together, hand in hand, while Vaughn tried not to worry.

Riley slammed her hand against the door, blocking Emma in as the younger girl struggled and went for the door knob again. “It's. Not. Pee!” she repeated, thinking, god, don’t they do sex ed at that shitty school? 

Emma scowled, because there was MORE pee, what the fuck? She pushed at Riley’s chest, They’d argued plenty of times. Two people spending nearly every waking hour together were bound to argue sometimes, but this was something different. “I’m not fucking stupid!” Emma shot back. “You pulled my foot, and..then my underwear got all wet, and then you scared me! You totally suck and you’re mean, and I don’t like you anymore, go away!” She pushed again, but the gangly, solid Wall of Riley didn’t budge an inch. 

“Your hair’s stupid!”

“Your pants are dumb.”

“RILEY, MO..mph!!” Emma tried to finish, but Riley swooped in, pressing her lips against Emma’s, a clumsy kiss that Emma found herself returning with a little mewl of acceptance. 

“It’s not pee, princess, It means you’re mine. That’s all.” Riley explained, pulling away from the kiss. 

Emma blinked, staring at Riley, her pushing hands now knotted in the fabric of Riley's tank top.  
“You’re a girl.” Emma pointed out, slowly emphasizing the words like she was explaining this to a first grader..

“Mhm.” Riley said with a slow nod, letting her forehead drop against Emma’s. 

“I’m a girl...” Emma pointed out. 

RIley snorted with laughter. “I guess you learned somethin’ in school.” 

“We are both girls. Um, I’m..not gay, Riley,” Emma said, but not sounding like she believed it.

“Riley grinned, pushing back off the wall, finally letting Emma free. “Nah, you’re like…” she swaggered her hips. “Rileysexual.” 

Emma shook her head, still perplexed. “That was really bad. Like, no, painfully, really bad! Toss that in the bin with ‘homie’,” she added, rolling her eyes.

Riley snickered again, suddenly in a good mood, despite her best friend...girlfriend? Her Emma's confused scowl. 

There was a knock on the door, Vera’s voice coming from the other side. “Are you ready, children?” She called. “I will be taking you home now.”

Emma opened the door, blinking up at Vera. “Are you gay?” she asked bluntly. 

“Yes, but I do not do the sex with any one.” 

Riley snickered. “The sex.”

Emma pointed. “Riley’s gay.”

Vera nodded. “Yes, I figured that would be so when she was two years old.”

Emma smiled a little, accepting this. “Oh..So, like..Tara and Willow?” she asked referring to only the best TV show in the entire world. 

Vera bobbed her head in agreement. “Yes, this is so. Now, are you ready to go?” 

Riley came up behind Emma, nudging her out the door before she took Emma’s hand and tugged her along behind, the unicorn book bag slung over her shoulder. “The sky is blue, water is wet, we are gay, you are mine...that dress is fugly and we’re burning it tonight. Can we go now?” she asked, as her bodyguards trotted along like big, snickering rottweilers behind them.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback
> 
> 16/17

Emma sat in the community room at Helping Hands Youth Center, a brightly colored group of rooms in one of the big, blocky brick buildings downtown. Her attention seemed glued to the textbook in her lap, though in reality, she was barely paying attention to the words. Her mother had passed away from lung cancer not too long ago, and no matter how much cajoling, begging, demanding, bribing, and the half a week she’d been forcibly locked in her room at the Petrov house could make her actually live there. Finally, Riley relented, allowing Emma an apartment close to the high school. Emma lifted her gaze for a few minutes, mindlessly watching the TV. 

“Damn, that girl’s kinda hot, I mean, for a chick,” came a voice from beside Emma. Emma shifted her gaze, staring at Christie for a moment. She’d known her since junior high, a pretty black teenager with neatly done braids, stylish nails and a knock-off of those designer bags that were so popular then. 

“The actor’s a chick, but it's Branden Tena, he’s trans,” Emma explained, half-heartedly. She and Christie did not get along; Emma never could understand the trendy meanness of girls like Christie.

“So, like...what, your lil boyfriend?” Christie asked with her signature cruel smirk, flipping open her compact to check her perfectly applied gloss in the mirror. “Or that Maria dude runnin’ around here...they trannies too?” 

Emma slammed the book shut. “‘Tranny’ is literally a horrible word unless you’re talkin’ about a car!” Emma was doing her best to keep calm, her nails digging into the book, as she added “And, my little ~girlfriend~ is a chick. Sorry she’s got a bigger cock than your lil boyfriend! You’re just mad coz we’re the only people in this fuckin’ joint who haven’t fucked you.”

Christie jerked to her feet. “You callin’ me a whore, dyke?” she asked. “See that’s why yo’ mama…” She snapped her mouth shut, that sneer turning into a practiced ‘friendly’ grin as Emma felt the couch sag and Riley's lips pressed against her cheek. “What’s goin’ on ladies?” Christie asked, as if she didn’t know, and hadn’t about to say what was itching to come out of her mouth. Everyone knew you didn’t fuck around, with Riley. She had some SERIOUS back up, and was tough on her own, besides. 

“Yeah, Christie, what’s goin on?” Emma asked, uncurling her legs to stretch them over Riley’s, giving the ‘mean girl’ a challenging grin. “Can you tell us more about them, what were they...trannies and dykes?”

Riley raised a brow, her tongue running over the tip of her teeth. “We don’t allow hate words at the center, Christie.” she canted her head toward one of the bright green walls before giving a friendly head nod to the shorter latina wandering in just then. “No hateful words, no drugs, no sexual contact.” She pulled Emma closer, giving her princess a possessive squeeze. “We know the last two aren’t strictly enforced, though,” she added, clearly meaning herself and Emma. 

“Aw, you know I’m just playin’! Ems and I are friends...right, Em?” Hazel eyes moved to Emma, a hint of pleading, not wanting Riley to kick her ass. 

“Oh, yeah, totes!” Emma said with faux brightness. “C’mere, gimme a kiss, baby,” Emma teasingly puckered her lips, leaning forward and making loud smooching sounds as Christie flinched. Emma leaned back with a laugh, and, flipping open her textbook, she once again ignored the soft chatter going on around her, at least until she smelled the sharp scent of axe body spray and saw a fall of black hair wash over the page. 

“Heeey girl, what’cha readin?” the girl who’d come in a few minutes earlier asked, leaning over to leer suggestively at the textbook in Emma’s lap.

“Jesus Christ, Maria!” Emma snapped, laughing and pushing the girl’s head back and away from her book. “Nursing shit, so I can stab your face every time you stick it in front of my damn book! Oh god, you smell so good!” She leaned forward, sniffing at Maria’s black hoodie just long enough to vex her girlfriend, who tugged at the back of Emma’s sweater. “Riles, why don’t YOU wear axe?” Emma asked, batting her eyelashes at Riley.

“Coz I got taste,” Riley shot back. Reaching out she clasped Maria’s fingers in a complex gangsta handshake, in the process transferring a small baggie that didn’t go unnoticed by Emma. 

“Shit, and money.” Maria shot back, pocketing the pills in her back pocket before she plopped down, earning a laugh from Riley. “Yeah, and that.” she agreed, taking a swig from her water bottle before offering it to Emma. 

The center was getting crowded now as the teens chattered away, Emma closed the book, watching as the center filled up. the one thing she loved about the neighborhood she grew up in was there were all different races and in the last year or so, more sexualities were coming forth. Though it was classed as a lower income area, it was a vibrant community. Several countries flags were painted on the wall, along with the pride flag, Emma felt some sort of pride in the little group of rooms she helped create. Sure there were drugs, and sex, but with the Petrov family controling the drug market, she knew it was clean and there was no meth or heroin allowed. 

“Yo, bro, you sure your girl should be watching this?” She heard Maria pipe up from Rileys other side, a curvy woman with long black hair and big hoop earings draped over her back. Riley wasn’t paying attention, to busy watching Emma. 

“What?” Riley asked finally, shooing the younger teenagers fingers off her neck. “Girl, you know we don’t sell to anyone under fifteen.” she raises her voice. “An’ if any of these people touch you or sell to you I will find out.” It was a practiced threat, with just enough force to make it believable. 

“Yoo, Bro, seriously.” Maria said worriedly, staring from the Tv, to Emma, then to the Tv again. She wasn’t worried about Emma now, The ginger wasn’t paying attention, to busy chattering away to the tweenager that was much too young to be either trying to seduce people, or get drugs, writing down numbers in a bright pink ink, hers, the crisis centers and the hospitals. 

Emma would have lost her temper at the femstud latina, but she was busy with the gathered preeteens who crowded her. “Seriously, guys.” she started. “Like, weed is totally okay sometimes, and even a wine cooler here and there. But anything harder..Just ew, totally tacky.” She had a practiced “popular teen girl” voice, though she was anything but. She knew the younger kids looked up to her because she was with Riley. “Here, if you ever need to like, talk or whatever, call this number. Riley got me this super cool cell phone, I know, right? It’s pink. But if you’re in an emergency or whatever. You gotta call these numbers okay?”

The gaggle of girls giggled, nodding and taking the papers, stuffing them in random pockets and purses before all gathering for a selfie. Tongues out, some already glinting with jewelry before scampering off to play games and flirt and eat

Emma sunk back in the seat, closing her eyes, relaxing into Rileys chest, at least until she heard. “Riley seriously, she can’t handle this shit, Remember the whole yearly nazi section teacher bein’ a dick an’ not lettin her leave ‘till yer dad comes in thing? Christie turn the fuckin tv off.” Riley had just looked at the tv at the close up of a crying, bleeding Hillary swank before he jumped up slamming the off button. 

“Shit, it ain’t my fault she’s a big fuckin’ baby.” Christie snapped, causing both Maria and Riley to stand and square up. Emma shooting to her feet.

“You!” She pointed to Maria, who had the sense to step back and hold up her hands. “Shut the fuck up and quit bein’ a snitch.

“Heyy, my bad, mami. Jus tryin’ to help. Don’t rip my face off, I like my face..it’s a nice face.” 

She ignored Maria, turning to RIley. “You, Stop trying to be all big alpha bitch, we get it, you’re top dog, back the fuck down or I’m never shovin’ my face between your legs again, Don’t think you’re the only fuckin’ chick in town.

This earned her a stony stare and a soft. “Try it.” that she didn’t hear. Spinning on her heels and pointing to Christie. “And you, Stop bein’ such a fuckin’ cunt, seriously what the fuck is your problem? You wanna go? Lets do this.

Christie stood, pushing Emma. “Yeah, bitch, lets do this. I’ll beat your ass again

Emma stumbled back, barely hearing the chorus of “ooohs!” and Marias soft “ah, shit.” before she swung, landing a solid punch before she was pulled against Rileys chest and pulled back, a soft whisper. “Calm, princess.” while being tugged across the room and into the chilly Illinois air.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> present day

Present:

After the fateful kidnapping, the pair settled into an easy routine for a while. They would eat dinner with Vera and Mikhail, and occasionally watch movies or play board games with the pair. Emma always asked who played board games anymore, but she still joined in anyway.

Of course, because it was Emma and Riley, and they had a really, really fucked up relationship, there was bound to be trouble eventually.

One day, Riley and Emma were spending the morning in Emma's room up in the attic, binging old Disney sitcom reruns and playing on their respective phones Riley splayed out on the twin-sized daybed with Emma curled in the crook of her arm. Occasionally each of them would glance at the other's phone to show a meme or a game score, but other than that, it was a quiet start to the day.

Eventually, Emma rolled off the bed and and plunked down on the floor. Riley had fallen asleep, Emma’s phone was boring her to tears, and there were only so many episodes of That’s So Raven to watch before one lost one’s mind. She ran her fingers through the pastel rainbow colored shag carpet, staring around her room, all bright neons and pastels, with the occasional touch of white and black, arched ceilings painted dark purple with a shine of glitter, and somehow, Riley or one of The Minions had found color shifting paint for the walls. It really was perfect. With the sun shifting from early to late afternoon it was currently a soft blue hue. Her gaze made its way to the end of the room, which was filled with both adult and kid craft supplies, and a sewing machine. 

Emma rose, stretching, before padding her way over to that area. She had been working on a dress anyway, and with Riley sleeping, figured she could finish it. She peered through the gauzy pink curtains, watching Vera with her goats and chickens in the yard, Mikhail working on some wood thing. It was actually pretty nice! Emma would never admit it, but she felt safe and loved with their new little family...and then her gaze went to Riley’s car. And then, to the scraps of fabric...and back to the sleeping Riley...and then the door...and then Riley again. 

Emma gathered the scraps, studying them carefully, pulling and tugging at them before tiptoeing back over to her...Lover? Soul mate? Crazy possessive butchy chick? Whatever Riley was...

Emma sat on the bed, nudging Riley’s arm, only to earn a little snorting sound and no other response. She rose up, carefully straddling Riley’s lap, raising her brows at the hard shape under the sweats. “Ah, gonna be that kinda day, huh?” she muttered softly, leaning forward. She slid her hand up Riley’s arm, grasping a wrist...then stopping quickly when the other woman mumbled, going still for a moment, before getting back to work. Riley stayed limp and sleeping below her, and Emma glanced down at Rileys phone, sitting face up on the bed.

A “Puppy tail Plugs” search lay open in Etsy, and Emma snorted, shaking her head and closing out the window. “Kinky bitch..” she mumbled, scooting down..then down further, hooking her hands at the hem of Riley's sweats, and ever-so-carefully tugging them down. Dark blue briefs, check..ah, yes, and the hardness she felt attached to the boxers; a thick silicone dick. Emma shook her head, carefully feeling around the waistband and pressing the small button to inflate the penis from “half chub” to “hard as a rock, then flicking her gaze up to Riley’s face, Emma grinned at the still asleep, pinched look resting there.

Riley squirmed, letting out a little sound half between a mewl and a moan, her lips parting and her hand moving to card through Emma's hair, feeling the nub of her packer rubbing against her, which meant that Emma was on the other end; only to pop her eyes open when she felt the bite of something at her wrists! “Princess...” she muttered, glancing down, and yep, there was her princess, mouth half down, cock at full mast. She jerked her hands again, tilting her head up to see bright green strips of fabric holding her hands to the bars of the day bed. “Baby...” she mused, her hips bumping up slightly. “If you wanted to top, you jus’ had to tell me. I didn’t know you had a Sleepin’ Beauty thing goin...” She paused, catching her breath as another expert grind was given to that faux cock. “ --goin’ on…”

“Mm..” Emma said softly, popping her lips up before she hooked her hands in those briefs, yanking them down along with the sweats. “A girl’s gotta take her moments when she can, y’know?” she asked, going up on her knees to study the briefs. “Hey these are kinda cool, I like the nubby thingie, that way you can get yer nut while I get mine.” She tossed sweats and briefs off the bed, grinning and running her hands up over muscled thighs.

“Em, baby, untie my wrists, then you can eat all ya want,” Riley demanded, then paused. “Did you just say 'get your nut’? Where the hell..nnghh!” She let her head flop back, Emma's tongue sliding up her slit, parting the auburn curls, those warm hands pushing her thighs open. 

Emma was busy skimming her hands up over Riley's legs, teasing the downy-soft hairs at her thighs as she leaned forward, lifting her hips just enough to allow the cotton dress to slide up over her bare ass. She flicked her gaze up, pressing her tongue against Riley’s slit. “Nah..” she muttered. “And, yeah..it's somethin’ Christie says, like, all the time.” she muttered, teasing her tongue over the wet curls in between her words, her fingers moving slowly to nudge lightly at Riley’s wet folds. 

Riley, for the most part, was calm, at least outwardly, though her hips bumped up slightly. “Ah, that’s, uh….” She closed her eyes as Emma's fingers slipped inside her, her muscles tensing around those digits, letting another moan slip. Her princess knew exactly where to go to get her off quickly, and even with “Phil of the future” now blaring behind them...”Um, babe, could you turn off the TV? Phil is staring at me, and it’s creepy as fuck.”

“Nah...” Emma muttered, snickering. “I won’t be here for long anyways.” Emma flattened her tongue, spreading those puffy lips and giving one long, slow swipe before she latched on to the other woman's clit. She knew, from experience, it was going to be sudden and almost painful, that along with the thrust to her fingers, turning and pressing it right to the spongy spot between mons and belly button, the tightening around her fingers and those legs clasped around her head showing her exactly how good Emma was. Emma was tempted to reach between her own legs and play with herself, but no. She had other plans. 

Riley saw stars! It was a trick Riley had been using on Emma for years, usually after pushing her onto a bed, or chair, or table because she wouldn’t shut the fuck up, or do what Riley had told her to do. Now, she bucked her hips, twisting her hands again in an attempt to draw away from the painful pleasure as she twitched, screaming out Emma's name. 

Emma pulled off with a pop, wiping her face before she popped her fingers in her mouth, staring down at her captor/lover’s flushed, twitching body. “Hmm, you’re right. That does make someone...what’s the phrase, baby? ‘Stupid pliant’?” she asked after pulling her fingers out of her mouth and hopping off the bed with a wiggle of her hips, the fabric settling back over her thighs. “Keys are still in your wallet downstairs, right, daddy?” Emma purred, turning the TV on as high as it would go.

“Emma!” Riley growled, still panting. “Princess, untie my hands.” She lifted her head, bright green eyes lust-blasted, glaring at the innocent looking girl as Emma hovered at the doorway.

“Nah...” And that was Emma. “I figure Vera or Mikhail will pop up sometime.” She blew a kiss and darted down the stairs, while “COZ ITS PHIL..PHIL..PHIL OF THE FUTURE KEEPING IT TOGETHER JUST AS BEST AS YOU CAN...” blared from the tv.

Riley took a breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten.

“COZ ITS PHIL..PHIL..PHIL OF THE FUTURE, THE TWENTY SECOND CENTURY----”

“Alexa, turn off Attic TV.” Riley waited a few more heartbeats. “Alexa, Call Vera, Attic Intercom.”

There was a crackle, and a buzz, and the voice of a bemused Vera. “Emma?” she asked.

Riley sighed. “Yup.” She twisted her hands again. “Gonna need you to come up to her room and--”

Vera paused. “And?” she asked.

“And fucking untie me,” Riley muttered.

“I’m sorry, Miss Riley? I didn’t quite get that.”

“Vera, you are a really awful fuckin’ liar,” Riley smirked, despite her current predicament.

Emma darted down the stairs. “Keys..keys keys..” she sang under her breath, flinging stuff around the counter, coffee table, and finally finding them hung, oddly enough, on a little hook next to the front door, that said “keys.” She grabbed them and flung the door open, the chilled air hitting her face, and then she hit a plushed up wall of human.

“Damn girl, this place is nice!” It was Christie, Maria close behind her, standing on tip-toes to look over the taller woman's shoulder, both of them blocking the doorway. 

“Shit Mami, Bro went all out, right?” Maria said, amused, holding several bags to Christie’s one. 

Christie held the bag out, watching Emma's eyes darting everywhere; staring behind her, then back at the pair of friends. “Riley ordered the shampoo n’ soap n’ shit you usually get from me. Invited us over for dinner, ‘n filled us in too. This is some weird nine and a half weeks shit ain’t it?” she asked. “I mean, we way past Fifty Shades.” She brushed in, Maria coming in soon after, closing the door.

“Right, hah, yeah totally!” Emma chirped. “Hey, Riley asked me to ask you to take me into town, for--” Her eyes landed on the bag, Christie’s logo proudly printed on it. “For..shampoo..Yeah, we need shampoo, and toothpaste..” she paused. “And pads, all the pads. Whoooo mother nature is crazy up in here amiright?” She reached out, grabbing Maria’s sleeve and tugging the shorter Latina toward the door. “Let's go!”

Maria, who was not a stupid woman, held steadfast. “Shit, what’d you do?” she asked with a shake of her head, causing that classic ‘butch floppy top’ to fall over her eyes for a moment. “You ain’t got her up there like, dead, or tied up like a chicken or somethin’ do you? You know the last time you did that shit we ain’t seen you for almost two weeks.”

And it was at that moment, Vera just...strolled in, holding a goat. “Ahhh, Maria..Christina, You both made it. You are grilling tonight, no? Christina, will you be so kind as to go into the attic, Our Riley seems to be--” She paused, flickering an amused gaze towards Emma. “Tied up..at the moment,” she finished. “Emma, pet my goat; she is a cute goat, no?” Vera stood in front of Emma, who was still clutching at Maria’s sleeve.

“I don’t want to pet your fucking goat, Vera.” Emma snapped, and the goat bleated a sad little cry.

“Aw, you made the goat sad! Pet the goat, Emma,” Vera cajoled, nudging the goat into Emma's arms. “Ah, see. The goat likes you! Do you like the goat?”  
Emma, of course, loved the damn goat. She leaned down, nuzzling at the goat’s soft head. “Fuuuuuuuck,” she breathed.

“The kids all wrote you letters, like, with paper and pens and everything.” Maria set about pulling stuff out of bags, along with a manila folder stuffed full of papers. “I told ‘em you were on vacation for a few months. I got a feelin’ it’s gonna be longer though,” Maria mused, glancing up at Emma’s worried expression as she stared down a little hallway with stairs leading up it. “Anyways, Riley figured y’all could use some company n’ shit, and it’s a weekend, I got no lesson plans ‘cept a movie Monday. So here we are.” Maria held out her hands in a ‘tada’ fashion as Christie gave them all a bemused look, making her way up the stairs with a parting shot of “White people fuckin’ crazy.”

Christie stopped, staring at the scene with an almost appreciative expression. Riley had ripped the fabric on her left wrist, leaving an angry welt, and was working on the other one. She was also wearing no pants and a man's tank top, and there was a wet spot between her knees. 

“Emma?” Christie asked with a laugh, heels sinking into the carpet as she made her way over to the bed, bending to work the last knot out of the fabric.

“Mhm.” Riley said with a sigh, resting her head against the headboard. 

Christie got her loose, watching Riley stand and pull the blankets and sheets off the mattress, balling them up to toss in the corner, swiping her briefs and wiggling them on. She smirked as Riley adjusted the cock, deflated it and tucked into the sweats she pulled on next. Last, Riley grabbed her phone and ran her fingers through her spiky hair.

“She still down there? Or runnin’ around the forest like a coked out panda?” Riley asked, her jaw ticking. 

“Nah.” Christie turned, watching with raised brows while Riley rifled through a little chest. “Riles?” she asked, with a shake of her head.

“Hm?” Riley paused, grabbing a pair of modified safety mittens, fuzzy white and pink cloth sewn around to make them look like paws, delicate padlocks on the wrist, turning to head toward the door.

Christie followed, hearing a crash downstairs and a goat’s loud bleat. “Maria, I swear to fuck if you don’t hand over that beer I’m gonna cave your twat in.” Emma shouted, along with another bleat and a “Language, Miss Emma,” from Vera. 

“Never mind.” Christie finished, following after. “You do you, Riles. That bitch is nuts.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you're gonna act like a lil bitch..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of urine  
> TW: needles

Vera took the goat back, returning to her spot by the door and lightly petting its fur. She moved her gaze as she spotted Riley, nodding her head at the girl.

“I don’t pay you enough, Vera,” Riley called, leaning against the door jam. Christie passed her, toeing off the uncomfortable looking heels and tucking them in a corner.

“I get double the pay, and all Mikhail and I must do is protect your home and watch this one,” Vera stated. “It is good for Vera’s old bones. Is everything well?”

“Yeah, are you coming in for dinner?” Riley asked, strolling in. She didn’t even look at Emma, who was nervously glancing out of the corner of her eye, still trying to reach for the beer Maria held out of reach. Instead, Riley sorted through the bags Christy had brought. “Sweet, you made the strawberry shit. That always smells good on her. Makes that rats’ nest easier to brush too.”

Vera shook her head. “No. Mikhail and I, if you do not mind, are planning to go into town today. We were just leaving when you called.” 

Riley nodded. “Alright, cool. Go on, take the weekend off. I got shit handled, right...princess?” She asked, finally those stormy green eyes landing on Emma, who was on tiptoes and leaning towards the beer the other woman was holding high out of reach.

Emma tensed, then snatched the beer from Maria, finally landing on her heels and turning away from the other woman. “Whatever,” she muttered, lifting the neck to her lips, pulling a swig into her mouth.

She yelped when the bottle was pulled from her hands, a slap landed to her ass before she was tugged into Riley’s side, a tight arm wrapped around her. The bottle was set down, and warm breath hit her ear as Riley leaned close.. “You can’t have alcohol with your meds, princess.” Emma grit her teeth, rubbing at the stinging slap. She barely noticed the door closing.

As usual, Maria and Christie just moved around them like all was completely normal. “Hey Emma, you makin’ cupcakes? Riley said you were making cupcakes!” Christy called, pulling another six pack from one of the bags and sliding it into the fridge. “I brought steak coz this bitch has been beggin’ for my steak all week.” she nodded toward Maria. “An’ she’s making..” Christie paused. “What’d you bring, Maria? I know you made it at the house.”

“Seven layer salad,” Maria stated, pulling the salad from another bag. “‘N ice cream, for the cupcakes.”

Riley nodded, grabbing the discarded beer and taking a swig. “Nah, Ems isn’t cooking today, She ain’t in the right headspace to be usin’ the stove. I’ll make ‘em though, they’re mom’s recipe. There’s chips ‘n stuff in the cupboard, dip and veggies in the fridge. If y’all start the grill, I’ll work on that.“ Riley could feel Emma tensing, shooting her a warning glare as the pair headed outside to the large porch with their meat.

As soon as the door closed, Emma pulled herself out of Riley's grip. “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” she asked, gesturing to her dress, a simple, babydoll style blue cotton number that barely reached her thighs. “I’m practically fucking naked! And I can cook! I’m in the--” she made air quotes. “Right fucking headspace.” 

Riley slowly set the bottle down again. Striking her hand out, she grabbed for the ginger’s dress, pulling her close and landing several swats to her ass. “That.” She started, slapping the tender underside of one cheek. “Was for pulling that stunt upstairs.” Another swat hit Emma’s left cheek, Riley holding the struggling girl to her body. “That.” she stated, gripping the spot she just slapped. “Was for drinking.” She let go, Emma shooting out of her arms like a bullet, panting and rubbing her sit spots with a tearful glare. Riley stared back challengingly, reaching for the mittens. “Give me your hands.” Riley ordered, sitting the delicate locks down. 

Emma shook her head. “No, I’m not playin’ your kinky sex games with people here.” she sniffled, giving a nervous look to the pair outside who seemed to be enjoying themselves, drinking and working on the grill together.

“That wasn’t a request, princess.” Riley stated. “If you insist on actin’ like a little bitch...” She trailed off, taking another sip of her beer before she put it down, and reached out for Emma, who had darted to the other side of the island. 

“They’ll tell the police, you’ll go to jail. You know what they do to pretty girls like you in jail?” Emma asked, causing another laugh to bubble from Riley’s lips as she stalked Emma. 

“Maria has seen ya bent over my lap, your ass cherry red and screamin’ at me way too many times for her to give two flying shits. Christie puts it all in her spank bank for later.” Riley reminded her, moving calmly around the island, Emma darting to the other side with a squeak. “I gotta start the cupcakes, princess; don’t you want a cupcake? It’s been a while since you’ve had sweets.” Riley held out her hand. “Give me your hands, Emma.” she said again.

Emma swayed. There was some sort of...power Riley had. It made almost everyone do what Riley wanted. The Petrov family all had it. But, for Emma...that pull… She moved to hold out her hands, lowering her gaze submissively, before her vision cleared and she saw the restrictive paw mittens. She jerked her hands away, shaking her head. “No thank you, I’m not hungry.” she said politely. “I’m going upstairs, y’all can have your p--”

Riley had been moving closer and closer as Emma swayed, then started talking. Like a large cat stalking her prey, a soft smile curling her lips, she lunged, pulling the ginger closer and manhandling her, back to chest. One of Emma’s hands trapped between them while the other was held. “Nah, princess.” she pushed the glove on, tightening the chain around Emma's wrist and sliding the lock in place. “If you’re gonna act like a lil bitch...” She said again, Emma’s arm pulled back, tucked between them. She grabbed the other flailing hand, bringing her thigh between Emma's legs to send her off balance and forcing the second mitten on, tightened and locked and then let free. “You can be treated like a lil bitch. Stay.”

Emma stayed; a surly look on her face, barely useable hands crossed over her chest while Riley disappeared into one of the many closets, returning with a pair of baggy jeans and holding something wrapped around her hand.

Emma focused for a moment, staring curiously at the object. Was that glittery pink leather? It looked kinda pretty.

Aw, no.

Hell no.

Fuck. That. Noise.

It was a harness! A big...ass...baby harness? From one of those bondage sites. Emma shook her head, backing up. “Please, Riley, not with company?” she whined, holding her paws/hands up placatingly. “I’ll be good, I promise...I’ll...make the damn cupcakes, and play the perfect ‘lil wifey...”

Riley shook her head. “Nah, babygirl, it’s too late for that. Daddy’s gotta know you’re not gonna do somethin’ stupid, and she can’t keep both eyes on you tonight.” She unwrapped the harness, shaking it out. “I had this made special for you, figured we’d get a chance to use it someday.” Riley paused, checking the straps. “I think it’ll work over your dress; if not we can just cut a hole in that dress.” She raised her voice. “Alexa, remind me; buy custom harness clothes.”

Emma shook her head again, backing up until her back hit the wall, eyes glittering with humiliated tears. “I hate you,” she whispered, taking a deep breath of the sweet/sharp scent that was Riley while the other woman dropped the pink leather over her shoulders, working the straps before tugging on her dress.

“Mmm, that’s nice, babygirl. Turn around.” Riley said calmly, nudging the girl to face the wall. Each strap was clipped easily. “Can you breathe? Is it too tight?” She was careful to check that it wasn’t too constricting, but Emma still couldn’t escape it. 

Emma pressed her hot face to the cool wall, nodding. “Yes.” she muttered. It wasn’t, but that wasn’t the point. “I don’t feel good. Please can I go upstairs? The bedroom windows can’t be opened--” 

Riley let out a soft chuckle, nudging Emma back around. “You’re askin’ permission?” she teased, leaning down to steal a kiss. “You must be sick, or a really, really sorry little girl. Nah, you’re fine.” she pressed her hands to Emma’s cheeks, lips pressed against hers before she pulled away, unwrapping the matching leash and attaching it to the D-ring on Emma's chest plate, wrapping the other end around her own hand. “Down.” she ordered finally, stepping back.

Emma shook her head pleadingly. “Nooo,” she whined. 

RIley glanced outside, smirking at the pair who were leaning against the porch rails, kissing; before turning her attention back to her girl and shrugging. “Fine.” she said with a little sigh, dropping the leash. 

Emma blinked, startled as she watched Riley move to the fridge. “Really?” she asked softly, almost hurt for some reason. She tugged the leash with her ineffective paws. “You’re cool with me walkin’ around like this?”

Riley didn’t answer, just turned and raised her brows before pulling out a locked box and showing it to Emma, grabbing her attention. “The car is remote start, by the way,” she pointed out. Unlocking the box and pulling out a vial and a wrapped needle, she carefully checked the label, nodded and found a few wrapped packets in the little box, the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol filling the room as she ripped one open.

Emma started to panic, her breathing picking up. “Riley? What the actual fuck are you doing?” she asked again, as Riley grabbed her arm and cleaned a spot on her skin with the prep pad.

Riley glanced up before inserting the needle into the vial and tilting it. “I’m getting a bit irritated with you fighting me, Em.” she said calmly. “All I want to do is keep you safe and close, but there’s consequences when you disobey.” She pulled the needle out of the vial, pushing the air out of the syringe before her gaze flickered back to her girl. “I could just take your legs.” she stated. “And your arms. You’d have no choice but to depend on me.” Quick as a striking snake, Riley shot the needle into Emma’s upper arm, pushed the plunger home, and yanked the needle out. It was over before Emma even realized she’d been given a shot.

Emma was starting to see stars. “You...wouldn’t...you wouldn’t hurt me!” she reminded Riley softly, scooting back, then instantly stopping at Riley’s ‘don't move’ order. 

“Babygirl. I would do anything to keep you safe and at my side,” Riley said softly, advancing closer and closer. “It wouldn’t hurt at all. Daddy’d put you to sleep, and then when you wake up,” she wiggled her free hand. “All gone. Last chance.” she said, just as the door slid open, the smell of grilled meat hitting them both. “Down.” 

Emma glanced over at the pair who walked in, Maria not even phased as she made her way to the kitchen. Christie stood, startled for a moment as her eyes took in the scene. “We eatin’ outside? It’s kinda chilly so prolly not though...” she called, following her lover, after the initial shock of seeing the Great Riley And Emma Standoff of 2020 wore off.

There was silence between Riley and Emma, though Riley held onto her throat lightly, pressing just at the right places that Emma knew from experience would cut off her air supply and make her pass out. Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she watched as Maria and Christie simply made themselves at home, pulling out plates and cups; though Maria subtly grabbed a couple spouted cups for Emma, seeing the fuzzy paws on her friend’s hands. 

Slowly, Emma moved down the wall until her ass hit the floor, her legs curved and splayed out. Riley nodded once, wrapping the leash around her hand once again. “Come.” she ordered softly, walking away while tossing the needle in a sharps container, moving to re-lock the box and start the cupcakes, her voice rising slightly to chatter away to the couple.

Emma sat for a few more moments, then rolled over onto her knees and started to crawl, keeping her head down until she was close enough that Riley could move around the kitchen. Sitting quietly, cross legged, scared, and pissed--literally, her bladder began leaking onto the chilly marble tiles.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, Bestie and I were thinking of making Sl (Second life) avatars that represent the characters and adding pictures to the chapters. I don't want to start on that unless there's some interest because it would take time/money to find all the poses and skins and stuff, since the only one I really have is Emma and Vera. Sooo, would any one be interested in seeing that?
> 
> ***  
> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present-ish  
> The rest of the night with Maria and Christie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: roughness  
> TW: choking/gagging

Riley glanced down at the sulking girl pressed against the counter. Emma's lip poked out in a cute pout that made her look like an overgrown toddler who’d just been told she couldn’t climb on a counter. Riley wandered around the kitchen, still talking to their guests, while pulling down chips and cutting fruit. The cupcake recipe was pretty easy and Riley's parents had already sent the toffee frosting. 

“Princess?” Riley gently nudged Emma with a bare foot. “Grab a cupcake pan and come here.” The veggies and fruit were cut, chips, dip and cheeses on the counter; all that was left was to whip up the dessert. Riley began meticulously measuring all the ingredients.

Emma had been, up to this point, almost comfortably quiet, listening to the people talking around her. Though, again, she would never admit it, but she enjoyed just listening, sitting on the floor in the safe grasp of her lover’s leash. She started at the nudge, darting her gaze upward, before nodding and rising to her feet, wincing and holding Riley’s arm. “I’m too fuuu--” Emma swallowed back the curse word, earning an approving nod from Riley. “Uh, I’m too old to be sittin’ on the ground,” she finished, turning to reach into one of the cupboards and grab a cupcake pan, her mittened fingers clumsy and awkward. 

Glaring at her hands’ soft prisons, she offered, “if you take these off, I can actually be a useful member of this party.” Her tone was snarky as she handed the pan over, before moving to take platters to the table, letting out a soft grunt as the leash pulled against her chest. She tossed an annoyed look toward the other couple, pressing her lips together and turning to lean against the island, watching Riley work.

Riley gave Emma a few glances while she worked, tightening the leash around her own wrist. “You’re being a useful member of the party, not throwin’ things around and screeching like a coked out toddler,” she reminded the other woman dryly, raising her voice slightly. “One of y’all get drinks. Uh, I think there’s sparkling water, soda and the beer you guys brought.” She turned her attention back to Emma before putting the cupcakes into the oven. Scooping a little of the batter onto her finger she turned, presenting the digit to Emma. “Lick.” 

Emma fiddled with the hem of her dress, watching while people moved around, Maria and Christie chattering about random things, Riley for the most part silent except for occasionally asking for a spoon or a towel. Emma started to run on autopilot, lips parting at Riley’s order and taking that digit into her mouth, her startled gaze meeting Riley’s amused one. She didn’t spit Rileys finger out, instead drawing it inside the wet warmth of her mouth, watching as the other woman's pupils dilated.

“See...” Riley teased, her voice husky as she pulled her finger back out, tracing the tip over Emma's lips. She turned, grabbing the chips and vegetable tray, nodding towards the stack of plates before heading into the dining area, laughing at something Christie said.

Emma made a face, snatching the plates and following the tug to her leash; not that she had much of a choice. She leaned forward to sit the plates down, stiffening when she felt Riley palm her ass. Biting her lip to stifle a little whining moan, she rose back to a standing position, brushing the short hem of her dress down, though she kept her eyes lowered, her cheeks pink.

Christie broke the ice between the pair, at least for a moment, tugging on the harness. “Where’d you get that? Maria would look hot in it! Prolly not pink though. Blue? Green?” 

“I like pink!” Maria protested, grabbing a plate. “No glitter though.” She nudged Emma playfully. “Think she’s got a lock on the whole glitter thing anyways.”

“You have no idea.” Riley commented, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Pretty sure Tinkerbell spooges every time Emma pulls out the craft box.” She wrapped Emma's leash around her wrist, drawing Emma closer as they settled into the chairs, shaking her head once and nodding to the floor when Emma moved to sit, barely looking at the ginger while she pulled a steak onto one of the plates. “I made a couple extra harnesses; could prolly make you girls one or two. Gonna have to adjust them though; your tits are bigger than Emma’s.” Riley pointed out with a playful smirk, cutting the meat into bits before she started making her own plate.

Emma's face flushed crimson. “Her dick’s bigger than yours,” she muttered mulishly, but flopped gracelessly onto the floor. Without even looking at Emma, Christie handed her a bottle of soda, the cap already twisted off. 

“Both of y’alls tits are just fine..Maria’s are bigger though...not by much,” Christie mused, sitting down on a chair and flashing her girlfriend a smirk.

Once again, the three at the table conversed and joked, Emma at first sipping her soda and turning her head every time a bite of food was offered. But, after about fifteen minutes, Emma found herself leaning lazily against Riley's legs; her own legs stretched out, and once again Riley offered another bite of carrot. Emma paused a moment, then opened her mouth, leaning forward and clamping her teeth down, not on the offered bite, but on Riley’s fingers, feeling her lover’s body stiffen, though she barely broke the chatter. Instead of trying to pull her fingers out, she pushed them in, pinning Emma's tongue down and forcing the ginger’s head against her knee

Gagging, Emma's mittened hands flew up, drool pooling in her mouth before dripping down her chin, She barely heard Maria ask if she was okay, and Riley's assurance that Emma was fine before Riley pulled out her fingers, wiping them on a napkin and resuming her meal as though nothing had happened. 

After a while, dinner was done, cupcakes were cooling, and the threesome was working on dishes. Emma was silent besides letting slip occasional frustrated little growls at her useless hands, and really, really regretting her earlier choices. 

“Go ahead and choose a movie, guys.” Riley flashed one of her grins, reaching for the high cupboard. “I know y’all got some pot. Pipes are..uhh...” Riley paused, thinking before she nodded. “In the drawer under the TV. There’s plenty in there.” Riley pulled out one of Emma's bottles, made for calves, along with some sort of vanilla flavored powdered meal mix. “Cold or warm, princess?” she asked, measuring several scoopfuls.

Emma stared, first at Riley, then at Maria and Christie. Christie, for her part, had a clear “What the the actual fuck??” expression on her face, while Maria...well, if this was an Anime cartoon, Maria would have big eyes and hearts popping out of her head! She tugged Christie off to look for the pipes with an explanation of “Prolly coz she wouldn’t eat what Riles offered.” 

“No.” Emma stated, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest, pausing when the D-ring dug into her arm. She let out a frustrated shriek, yanking at the leash. “C’mon, Riley! I said I was sorry, I played your weird pet game punishy thing...While there were people here, I mean, yeah its just them, but still! Lemme either watch the fuckin--” she paused, a horrified look on her face. “--The freaking movie or go to bed!” she finished, a cross between begging and defiance showing in her eyes.

Riley was in the process of shaking the bottle after filling it with warm water. “Oh, this?” She said, side nodding at the bottle. “This isn’t for the stunt you pulled upstairs; which, by the way, will never happen again.” She advanced, setting the bottle down. “This is for the stunt you pulled at dinner. You know the rules.”

“Don’t bite you, or you’ll shove your fingers down my throat?” Emma snarked, tilting her head slightly to stare into Riley’s face.

“That’s one.” Riley agreed. “You eat, when I tell you. You sleep when I tell you,” Riley paused, running her finger over Emma's lip. “And don’t bite Daddy,” she whispered, giving a little wink before stepping back. “Don’t eat what’s on the table, you get this. Do you want to drink it yourself, or do you need my help?” 

Emma turned her head. “Mself.” she muttered, almost inaudibly.

“Hmm?” Riley asked, tapping her foot, her meaning clear.

“Myself, daddy.” Emma muttered, louder this time, shifting from foot to foot.

Riley beamed a smile, handing the bottle over. “Good girl, at least half of that gone before bed. Come,” she ordered, snapping her fingers.

The pair walked together into the living room, Maria and Christie sprawled out on the couch. Riley picked Maria’s feet up, plunking down at the end and letting Maria’s feet settle back in her lap. 

Emma paused for a heartbeat, staring at the threesome who so casually sat like it was a normal evening, then she parked her butt on the floor between Riley's legs, bringing the bottle nipple to her lips and suckling, her gaze wandering to the Superhero movie now playing on the TV.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16/17  
> shortly after Emmas mom died

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mentions of rape  
> Tw: spanking

16-17  
Shortly after Emma's mother died

Emma was on lockdown, and though she wasn’t scared to disobey Riley, Vaughn or any one of the soldiers, she was pretty damn terrified of Anya, or at least ‘~Pissed Off; If You Move From That Corner I Will Suck You Dry~ Anya’. But, at least she was allowed out of the little suite she shared with Riley, now, after swearing she wouldn’t take off. So, there she wandered, in a pair of hello kitty pajama pants and a beat up tank top, chewing on the antenna of her equally trashed Nokia, following the sound of music in the massive house until she got to the little dance studio, ICP blaring from the sound system. 

Emma pushed the door open, watching Riley, clad in leotards and a tight tank, her form perfect from years of practice, as she danced to the violent words coming from the stereo. Somehow, despite the lyrics and beat, Riley made the movements graceful. She moved up on her toes, flashing Emma a little grin in the mirror before the music stopped, and though some slower music came on, Riley landed back on her heels, giving her legs a quick stretch before making her way to Emma, using the remote to turn the music off along the way, before swooping in to give her girl a quick kiss. “Stop chewin’ on your phone,” Riley ordered, but gently. 

Emma watched, as always, transfixed, biting down on the black plastic just a bit harder. Usually she wasn’t a fan of ICP, the music sort of creeped her out, but with Riley dancing, it could be the creepiest, loudest song ever and Emma would happily watch. She leaned against the door jam, watching Riley glide over, kiss her...and then scold her. And...spell broken.

“I can’t help it!” Emma protested, laughing softly and lifting her arms to wrap around Riley’s neck. She just had to tilt her head up a little to meet Riley’s mouth, pressing her lips against the other woman’s, tongue darting out to nudge at the seam of Riley's lips, though she let out a little groan when her phone rang. “See!” Emma bitched, pushing the on button. “This is why I don’t like these things. I could be getting laid but noo…”

“Emma...help..” It was Christie! The reception was bad, and Emma could hear her crying, but she still knew it was Christie. Emma could tell something was terribly wrong, so she pushed herself from the wall. “The fuck’s going on?” Emma demanded. And then she heard a pained cry in the background followed by male laughter and jeering. Emma must have looked scared, because Riley grabbed the phone from her, heading off to pull one of her dad’s old hoodies over her dance outfit. 

“Where are you?” Riley asked, striding out into the hallway with Emma following after. Emma was wringing her hands, while Riley just looked pissed. She pulled the phone from her ear, barking orders in Russian.

Emma knew shit was going down when Vera handed Riley a handgun on her way to the door. “What’s going on?” Emma asked Riley. “Where are we going? Why do you need a gun?” She tossed rapid-fire questions at Riley, as she narrowly avoided being run over by several people pouring out of random rooms. 

Riley tucked the gun in the waistband of her leotards. “Go up to our rooms, princess.” Her voice was low and pissed off as she strode to the door, barking something at one of the soldiers that Emma didn’t understand.

Emma almost, ~almost~ headed towards the stairs, her stomach twisted in knots, but instead she turned, still barefoot and rushed out after the small crowd, ducking under a slender blonde man's arm to hop into the black hummer before the door shut. Without even looking at her, Riley pounded the top of the vehicle and it started moving.

“Riley!” Emma snapped finally, her face white, hands gripping her fuzzy pajama pants. “What the fuck happened? Is she in trouble?” 

RIley was silent for a few heartbeats, pulling her gun out and checking the bullets. Emma had seen her girlfriend do this at least a hundred times during what the family called ‘practice runs’, but she knew this was different. “Christie left Damien for Maria,” Riley said finally, slamming the magazine back as the same sounds from other soldiers echoed around them. “Damien ‘n a bunch of buddies found ‘em by the river, fucked Maria up. Last thing I heard was Christie crying ‘n someone talkin’ before the line went dead.”

Emma went paler, her hand going to her mouth as she let out a soft sob. It wouldn’t be too hard to find the girls, she was sure. They’d be somewhere along the Illinois side. “Close to the bridge,” Emma said softly, turning to look at Riley, panicked. “We’re not gonna get there in time!”

The SUV had turned, and Emma watched the grungy down-town lights, comforted at Riley’s touch to her knee. “There’s already cops and EMTs there, people on payroll,” Riley promised as they headed toward the bridge. The vehicle pulled to a stop. “You know my family don’t tolerate this shit in their area, ‘n I don’t let people fuck with my friends.” Riley touched Emma's cheek as the doors started opening, the pair already seeing flashing lights, a couple police cars and an ambulance. Emma let out a small, relieved breath, reaching for the door, before she was stopped with a hand to the back of her neck. “If you leave this car, I’m beating your ass.” 

Emma nodded once, sitting back with her hands in her lap. “Fine.” she muttered softly, “But, be careful.” She turned her head to accept the gentle kiss on her cheek, just barely opening the door, because she knew Vera would engage the child safety locks and wanted to have SOME control. 

Riley studied Emma for a few heartbeats before getting out of the Hummer, silently cursing herself for not changing out of her ballet flats, because no one looks badass in a huge red school team sweater and a pair of tights; but she strode along, sparing a quick glance toward the ambulance loading whom she assumed was Maria, while Christie, blood still dripping from her nose, was being comforted by a broad-shouldered man in an EMT uniform. She cocked the gun, pointing it in the general direction of a group of men around her age, kneeling with their hands cuffed behind their backs, with several cops barking orders. “Who was it?” she growled, earning a couple snickers from the little group; at least until one felt the rough kick of a boot and a glare from a tall, angry looking cop, his dark, bald head shining in the small light.

“Whatchu gonna do?” This was Damien, though his hands were cuffed and his lip bloody, he still had that cocksure look of a thug. “Shoot me?” he asked, smirking.

“Bro...” Another guy, shorter and smaller than the others, gave Riley a look. “That’s Riley Petrova! She’ll fuck your shit up!” The kid swung a look at the cops as they started yanking all but Damien up off the ground. “She’s got like...mafia shit or somethin.” He paused, tears glittering in his eyes as he looked at Riley. “I tried to stop ‘em, I..thought he was jus’ gonna slap them ‘round for a lil bit, coz she stole his girl..I didn’t touch any of ‘em.” he said, fearfully.

“Shut the fuck up, Troy!” Damien growled. “I ain’t messed with your lil’ dyke girlfriend, bitch. Stay the fuck out of--” He winced as Riley shot the gun, jerking sideways and falling to the ground, though Riley had only aimed at the ground a few feet beside him. “Yo! You gonna let this crazy bitch shoot me?” he shouted, earning a derisive snort from the cop at his side, along with a small wave of laughter from the black clad soldiers behind Riley. 

Riley calmly turned to Troy, jerking her head at him. “You! What happened?” she ordered.

Troy was almost hyperventilating, “Yo man, if I say anything they’re gonna kick my ass!” 

Riley leveled the gun toward the younger boy’s chest. “And if you DON’T say somethin’ I’m gonna shoot you in the face. Talk.” 

Troy pressed back against the cop, crying now, and though everyone kept silent during Riley’s threat, Vera nudged her reprovingly in the back, knowing she’d be the only one who would be able to do so without retribution from Riley or her family. 

“Damien jus’ said we had to fuck ‘em up, but the other guys found her an’ that Mexican chick an’ they slapped Christie around! But then they started punchin’ the other chick sayin’ that if she wanted to be a guy then they’ll treat ‘er like a guy an’ then they...they started t’take off her pants an, I didn’ touch her coz she’s always real nice t’me but they all said I was a fag an’ told me--” he panted out the words, eyes wide with fear.

“Enough!” Riley nodded, jerking her head. “Go, An’ don’t worry bout these fucks fuckin’ with you, kid, or their lil gangsta wannabe friends, neither.” She paused, sweeping her gaze around before landing on Mikhail. “Take him home, talk to his ‘rents,” she ordered him.

That done, she turned to the ringleader, walking slowly toward him while purposefully kicking up gravel. Damien was already yanked up on his knees, so Riley just looked down her nose, strands of hair falling out of that short ponytail to fall into her face. “You beat my friends?” she asked calmly, her accent thick; something that always happened when with her soldiers on family business. “You were going to ~rape~ my friend?”

Riley pressed the gun to his forehead, and, finally, the man started to show a bit of fear. 

“The fuck you care?” he asked, moving away from the gun.

“No one fucks with what’s mine.” Riley pulled the gun away, drawing the weapon over her shoulder before she sent him a backhand, smacking him into the dirt again. “An’ if any one else fucks with that kid, they’re gonna have more problems then some fuckin’ high school gangbangers, do you understand me?” She stepped back, pointing the gun at him again.

“Riley, don’t!” Emma had been watching from the vehicle, and now she rushed over to the ambulance almost as soon as the other Hummer cleared out. She had her arms wrapped around a sobbing Christie, until the other woman was led into the back, then climbing in after Christie to check in on Maria. The Latina was mumbling something, still bloody and swollen. Squeezing Maria’s hand, then slipping out the back, Emma turned as the ambulance drove off, just as Riley had pointed the gun. Emma ran up, shouting at her lover, before she was yanked back into a solid body. 

Riley tensed, but didn’t flinch or look away. However, she did pull the gun away from Damien’s forehead, jerking her chin at the cop, who yanked the young man to his feet for probably the third time in a row. 

“Looks like that ‘dyke bitch’ saved your ass,” Riley mused, pulling the safety and handing her gun to Vera. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be used in prison, I’ll make sure of it.” It was an empty threat, but one that made the young man's face go ashen before he was led off to a squad car. 

RIley stood there, staring at the Mississippi for a few minutes while the crowd cleared, calming her nerves and trying to get her heartbeat back to normal. The cop cars were pulling away and all but Vera had gone to the Hummer. Instead, the muscled woman moved off to the side, tucking her fingers in her belt loop. 

“I told you to stay in the car.” Riley said, her voice deceptively calm when she felt Emma approaching, the other girl’s arms wrapping around her slender waist.

“I couldn’t, Riles...” Emma said softly. “I was afraid...”

Riley made a soft “hmm” sound, still staring off into the river for a minute, Emma's cheek on her shoulder. 

“I told you what would happen if you got out of the car.” 

Emma's stomach knotted, a curious heat pooling between her legs, but she kept silent, rubbing her face against Rileys shoulder, tensing when the other woman stepped forward and turned, grabbing her arms.

Emma winced slightly. “You won’t hit me, Riley,” she said softly, peering into the woman's face. She lifted her arms to wrap around Riley’s neck, biting her lip when, instead of allowing those arms to wrap around her, they were grabbed and pulled in front of her, long fingers binding her wrists. Riley’s face was stormy, her chin jutting out as she started to walk, backing Emma up with each step. 

“Riley, knock it off, you’re freaking me out!” the ginger squeaked, when she felt the back of one of the concrete slabs hit behind her knees. Riley spun, switching positions to sit on the chilled concrete slab. “Over.” Riley ordered, tugging Emma's wrists. 

Emma drew back. “We can do kinky stuff at home.” she protested, looking nervously around, although the only thing she saw was the black truck in the distance and Vera staring into the water. “Shit if you wanna fuck outside, we’ll do it...just, y’know...not when a buncha people are around?”

Riley reached up, tangling her hands in that messy red bun. “Fun?” She snapped, giving the other girl’s head a shake. “You coulda been killed. This isn’t fucking fun, Emma. This is ‘Riley is in fucking charge,’ and if Emma doesn’t do what Riley says Emma will not sit comfortably as a reminder to Do. What. Riley. Says.” The last four words were broken up with staccato slaps to Emma's ass, Riley having wrestled the wiggling girl over her lap, one leg wrapping around Emma's kicking legs. Riley was careful when she untangled her hand, almost instinctively making sure the other girl’s head didn’t hit the concrete.

“RIley, Ow, stop!” Emma squealed, her hands moving to protect herself, crying out when, instead of the fleshy globes of her butt was smacked, it was her hands instead! “Shit! Lemme go, Riley! This isn’t fucking... OW!” 

Riley held Emma's wrists at the small of her back, pulling her pajama pants down to just under the swell of her bottom, her lips flickering into a little grin at the girlish Elmo panties Emma was wearing, before she pressed her mouth back into a stern line as she peppered her girl’s ass. Somehow she knew exactly when Emma hit her breaking point, the screams turning into sobs and apologies. She landed a couple more smacks, this time to one of Emma's thighs, noting with just a hint of amusement that they were slightly sticky and damp. 

“Em, baby,” she sighed finally, waiting a few heartbeats before letting the chastised teenager up. Emma sniffled, shooting up like a rocket and moving her hands to rub the sting away, but Riley was quicker. Taking Emma’s hands in her own she pulled her close, setting the other girl into her lap. “When I tell you to do somethin’ it’s not coz I wanna. It’s coz you could get hurt,” she said softly, petting Emma's hair. “You shoulda stayed at home, where you were safe.”

Emma sniffled. “Why do you getta beat me an’ you getta go do a buncha dangerous stuff?” she asked, her voice taking on a soft, whiny lilt. ”‘S not fair!” 

Riley nuzzled Emma's cheek, helping adjust her pants back up before she stood, wrapping her arm around the other girl’s waist. She nodded toward Vera, all three of them making their way back to the car. “We’ve been through this a million times, Em, coz I said so.”

Emma was quiet for a moment as they settled in the car. “C’n we go to the hospital?” she asked softly.

Riley nodded, pressing her lips to Emma’s temple. “Yeah, but first, we’re headin’ home to grab my car ‘n a change of clothes.”

Nodding, her ass still stinging, Emma curled up against Riley’s side, Riley’s arm draped casually over Emma’s shoulder.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present

Emma sat in on the counter of the bathroom while Riley showered, still wrapped in a fluffy pink towel with the hood pulled over her wet hair, sulking. Her heels beat a steady ‘thud, thud, thud’ against the cupboard below, just to irritate her lover. 

“Em, knock it off,” Riley scolded, shutting the shower off and grabbing one of the towels, before she pulled the door open. She paused a moment, staring at Emma; and, as always, barely resisting the urge to smile at the cute pink bundle of fury. 

“It’s not fair though!” Emma jumped off the counter, keeping the towel wrapped around herself, though the hood fell down. “Why can’t I go?” She stomped a foot. “Or, why can’t I stay with Vera and Mikhail? Or stay at your moms and dads? Or, I dunno, stay by my fuckin’ self like a normal thirty year old woman?” She had finally dropped the towel in a puddle at her feet, turning to the mirror to comb her hair out, gripping the wide tooth comb when Riley reached over her shoulder to grab it.

“Because.” Riley started, tucking the towel around her own chest, then reaching for her girl’s hair cream and studying the directions before squirting some in her hand and reaching for the comb. She jerked it out of Emma's hands, combing the cream through those ginger locks. “I’m doin’ business stuff. Besides, you like Dahlia and Phinn,” Riley pointed out, expertly weaving Emma's hair into a loose braid. She wiped the rest of the cream into her own hair, then moved to open the cupboard to grab lotion. “Cotton candy or uhh...” she paused, squinting at the bottle. “Heh, this one’s called ‘Emma’!” She leaned against the counter, reading the ingredients aloud; “Springtime roses, baby powder and a hint of sour apple. Sounds like--”

Emma cut her off. “The cotton candy is yours, and Rain is an asshole,” Emma sulked, grabbing the lotion and tossing it behind her shoulder in a small tantrum. “I’m not stayin’ here. You can’t--” 

And then it was Riley's turn to cut Emma off. She didn’t even have to move much, just reach out and press Emma down into the counter, the shorter girl’s torso meeting the warmed marble. “Y’know, princess,” She started; “I know you’re a smart girl, but you’re not learnin’ very well.” Emma opened her mouth to shoot something back, but a quick slap to the underside of her ass reduced the comment to a pained squeak. “Shhh!” Riley moved, turning to grab the lotion off the floor. “Go to the bedroom.” she ordered. “If you put clothes on, you won’t get any ‘til I get back.” 

Emma rose, rubbing her bottom and grabbing the towel before she stomped towards their room. But, she didn’t put anything on, just wrapped the towel around her body, throwing herself down on the armchair nestled in the corner. She sent Riley a glare when the other woman wandered in, already dressed in her usual jeans and white tank top, tossing the lotion bottle down before ambling to the closet.

“Fucking not fair!” Emma protested, kicking the carpet. 

“Be quiet, Emma.” Rile tossed a duffel bag out, along with a couple pairs of jeans and tshirts before rising from her squat and sorting through the clothes there.

“I’m not your fucking ~kid~ Riley! When are you gonna--”

“Shut up, princess.” Riley warned, tugging a casual shirt dress down off of its hanger and tossing it on the bed before she sorted around the dresser, palming something and shutting the drawer with her hip

“OH, fuck you, Ri--mmmgh!”

The last bit was cut off, Riley moving in front of her. She dropped, pushing a pacifier into Emma’s mouth. Emma squirmed, but Riley had pinned her down with practiced ease. “Anyone tell ya you talk too much, baby?” Riley asked, her voice dry. “‘N the only reason why you don’t like Dr. Rain is because he puts up with your shit about as well as I do.” She buckled the pacifier/gag strap behind Emma's head as she talked, pulling back and catching Emma's hands when they reached for the strap fastener. “Touch that buckle, Em. Do it. I dare you.” 

Emma didn’t get much chance to try it; she was quickly tugged up and marched to the bed, Riley pressing against her to grab the lotion. “T-pose.” Riley instructed softly. 

Emma paused a moment, then with a soft huff through her nose she held her arms out, instinctively sucking on the bulb in her mouth.

Riley smiled, squirting the lotion into her hands and working it into Emma's skin. “I’m gonna be gone a day, maybe two, then we’re all gonna go into town and have a nice dinner, maybe do some shoppin’ and catch a movie.” She tilted the girl’s head up. “Y’know, trial run.” 

Emma stared up at her, an unimpressed expression on her face, before humming the cadence to “it puts the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again” earning a bemused snort from Riley as she pressed closer to Emma. “Is that what you need, princess? The hose?” She swooped down, nuzzling Emma's neck, causing the girl to squeak and laugh through the pacifier gag, twisting as Riley dug her fingers lightly into her sides. Riley sighed softly; reaching behind Emma's head she unhooked the buckle, pulling the pacifier gag out of her mouth and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Continue to backtalk me, princess, this’ll stay in longer.” The gag was tossed on the bed before Riley caught Emma’s hips, pushing Emma gently back, before crawling between her knees and hovering over her, supporting herself with an arm. 

Emma stretched out on the bed, staring up into Riley’s face for a moment before turning away. “I don’t want you to go...” she said softly. “You might get hurt...or die or...” She mewled, arching up when Riley’s fingers swooped down, pressing between her legs. “Fuuuck! Riley, that’s not fair!” she gasped.

Riley watched as Emma's expression melted from annoyance to pleasure, pressing her fingers against Emma’s center. “I always come back, baby,” she promised, leaning down to kiss Emma again while her thumb moved against the girl’s clit, strumming against the skin covering that button. “Daddy’ll always come back for her princess.” 

Emma squirmed, rocking her hips up. “Riiiley, that’s not faaaiiir,” she repeated, wailing softly. “‘N you can’t just do...hhhng--” 

Riley retracted that bit of skin, her thumb brushing down while her own thighs were keeping Emma's open. “You really, really need to stop tellin’ me what I can’t do.” she warned softly, twisting her fingers to thrust them inside her girl’s twitching channel, lifting her head when she heard voices downstairs. “Be down in one minute!” she called, flashing a small grin. “We’ll finish later, baby.” Riley rolled off the bed, leaving Emma still laying there.

Emma groaned, splayed out on the bed, before she rolled off and landed with a thud, jerking drawers open and sorting through them. “Of course, no fuckin’ jeans, ‘n I can’t fit into her jeans coz she’s skinnier than me,” she muttered, hearing voices downstairs. Emma glared at the twee little dress Riley tossed on the bed, huffing and yanking a sweatshirt from one of the drawers and pulling it over her head, followed by a pair of leggings; then she made her way to the living room.

“Y’all seriously don’t have to stay, I mean, you can totally coz I know we’re in the middle of nowhere, but--” Emma started, earning a glare from both the large-framed redhead and the smaller framed, but no-less scary Riley, before Riley turned, as if Emma wasn’t even talking. 

“So, anyways,” Riley finished, turning back to Rain. “You, Mister Phin, and...Jade, was it? can all sleep in the guest room, Dahlia can have our room, and Em’ll sleep either in her room or in the bed with Dahlia. Though, I’m pretty sure the girls are gonna be up in Em’s room a lot.” Riley finished, shrugging on her shoulder holster just as another woman walked in. 

“Dad, they have chickens! And goats! And I think there’s sheep!” Dahlia swept in, followed by a shorter Asian man carrying suitcases, and another blonde with a bag. 

“We have sheep, Dahlia,” Jade pointed out with a smirk, setting the suitcases down.

“Yeah, but still, they’re sheep.” Dahlia argued back. “All sheep are good sheep.” She reached out, giving first Riley a hug and helping her with the shoulder harness, then kicking off her shoes before bouncing across the room and throwing her arms around Emma. “Ohmigosh, sweetie look at how cute you look! Ugh and you smell just ~precious~ ! You’re so lucky Riley takes such ~good~ care of you!” she gushed out, unwrapping her arms from around Emma to hold the startled girl at arm's length.

“Hey, Dahlia.” Emma was a bit startled at the other woman's enthusiasm. “You know she’s keeping me hostage, right?” Emma whispered, though her lips quirked into a small grin. “Also she’s probably gonna go murder people right now, and she won’t let me come with...” 

Dahlia waved a hand, lifting the peasant skirt slightly. “Oh, that’s not true. She’s just...persuading you. It was dad's idea, really. Well, mostly...kinda.” She turned, giving the little group a wry look. “And of course you can’t go, silly, you’re a ~girl~!” 

Emma stared at Dahlia. The woman was...well, sort of off in her own little world. Though she was incredibly intelligent, much like Riley, she was also incredibly spoiled, much like Riley. 

“Dahlia, honey...I know you don’t spend a lotta time with chicks, but...Riley is a girl too. I mean, I know she’s...” she gestured to illustrate her point. “But, she’s a girl. Trust me, we’ve had this conversation when she started callin’ herself Daddy.” She lowered her voice. “Which, by the way, is incredibly fuckin’ hot. But...”

Dahlia laughed, leaning against Jade when he came up to wrap his arms lightly around her slender waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, as he was at least a head shorter. “Nah, Miss Riley is a woman,” he explained with his signature roguish grin. “You’re a girl. Dahlia’s a woman, Master Phinn and Master Sturmund are men.” He paused. “I’m a boy, or a slut...depending.” Jade stated, grinning wickedly. 

“You’re fucking crazy, that’s what you are.” Emma muttered, moving past the pair to the little group by the door just as Riley shouldered her bag. “I don’t want to stay here.” she stated.

Riley leaned down, giving Emma a kiss on the lips. “That’s nice, princess. Be good.” 

“I’m coming too!” she said stubbornly, pushing past Riley before she felt someone, once again, grab for her waist.

“Hey darlin’! It’s so nice to see you! You look way healthier than the last time I saw ya! Don’t worry, babe, Riley’ll be home in a couple days,” Phinnias promised, tugging her towards the living room. “Dahlia brought some glitter, and buttons, and something from that adult baby thing she runs!”

“Paaappa! You weren’t supposed to tell her!” Dahlia wailed from the back, stomping her foot.

Riley used the distraction to land another kiss on Emma's forehead before she slipped out, shutting the door and leaning against it for a moment, steeling her heart against Emma's wailing before she strode out to the car.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: 14/16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: abusive behavior of a boyfriend

Emma turned this way and that, staring at herself in the smudged mirror in the bathroom, tugging the frilled mini skirt down a little further over her legs. Riley was going to pick her up in about twenty minutes, and she wanted to look pretty, but not like she was ~trying~ to look pretty. She stepped back, sighing softly. It was the summer before ninth grade, and she was still holding on to the chub, despite dieting and exercising and all the stuff they tell you to do in Cosmo and Seventeen. And she hated her hair. It was frizzy and a weird orange color. She sighed, sorting through the little basket sitting haphazardly on the sink, pulling out a tube of lipgloss, when her mom pushed the door open, cigarette, as always, held between her middle and pointer finger. 

“You look cute, that skirt’s kinda short though, your lil friend won’t like that.” Betty pointed out, turning her head to cough before taking another puff. Emma gave her a slightly worried look before rolling her eyes and leaning towards the mirror, uncapping the tube and swiping the gloss over her lips. 

“Geez, mom. I’m not wearing it for her, I’m wearing it for me.” Emma lied. “The doctor said you needed to cut down, that cough is getting worse.” She popped her lips. “Do you think this is too much makeup? Oh, speaking of doctors, do you have that note? Ugh, I really don’t wanna get a shot.” 

Betty nodded, holding the cigarette between her lips. “It ain’t like I got any other pleasures in life.” the woman grumbled. “Got my smokin’ an my occasional trips to the boat. Speakin’ of, James’ comin’ over. He’s gonna take me out t’day.” She paused a moment, taking another puff. “Yeah, I’ll get yer note, prolly should get the shot though.” She ambled off, calling, “Maybe you’ll meet a boy lookin’ like that, get out of this whole dyke phase.”

Shuddering, and not just because she wanted to roll her eyes at Betty’s ‘occasional’ comment, but because James was coming around, she tossed the gloss back into the basket, grabbing her eyeliner and leaning in close to the mirror to paint her water line. “Only take twenty, mom! I still gotta buy gym shorts and shoes.” She’d been slowly picking up supplies and a few bits of clothes to wear throughout the summer, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood, mostly watching kids. “And oh my god, stop sayin’ that shit, I’m not like...seeing Riles like that, we’re just friends!” Which was a total lie. They’d been ‘going out’ since last year. 

She pushed out of the bathroom, stopping and wrinkling her nose right as James walked in, crossing the living room to the kitchen to grab one of the energy drinks she’d kept hidden from her girlfriend, lest Riley dump them in the sink again. Seventeen said they were a great way to keep your energy up and slim your waistline, but Riley didn’t agree. Emma turned, stopping cold at the lascivious stare from the man who’d just walked in the front door.

“Damn, you dressin’ all sexy for me?” James asked, combing his hand through greasy looking blonde hair. He gave Betty a wink when she tittered and gently patted his shoulder. “James, be nice! She’s just a kid. Here’s your note, Emmaline.” Betty said, giving Emma a pleading glare. 

“Thanks mom...” Emma said slowly, popping the drink tab open and grabbing the note, scooching around James and brightening when she saw Riley through the open door. She waved her in. “I’m almost ready, Riles; lemme just grab my shoes and purse. You think we could head to the dollar store too?” she asked. 

Riley eyed Emma, letting out a low whistle and grabbing her hand. While Emma was still ‘in the closet’ so to speak, Riley had no qualms about showing and telling the world that Emma was hers. She lifted their hands while Emma giggled, doing a little spin under Riley’s arm, the giggle turning into a scowl when Riley grabbed the drink out of her hand with a lifted brow. “Lookin’ good, baby. Tights would look adorable under that; you still got that pack of black ones I gave you?” 

“Aw, ain’ that sweet. Now kiss!” came the grating voice of James, who’d gone unnoticed til he opened his mouth.

Riley stiffened slightly, slender fingers denting the silver can, though she flung an arm around Emma's shoulders before turning and flashing a smile, somehow looking fierce in her baggy Korn t shirt and just-as-baggy jeans. “I’m sorry, sir.” she said. “I didn’t quite get that, please repeat it.” 

It wasn’t a request, and usually Emma would have scolded Riley for being so heavy-handed, but the accent deepening and the protective arm shielding her from the creepy man instead made Emma press into Riley’s side, her eyes wide and frightened. “That’s...kinda in...inappropriate, sir.” Emma said softly, trying not to upset the man, just in case he was the kind of guy who’d hit her mom. 

Riley’s arm tensed slightly. “Go get your purse n’ shoes, princess,” she ordered, turning her attention back to James before she gave Betty an incredulous look. Though she had just turned sixteen that summer, she’d seen some shit, but her girl quiet and cowed by someone that wasn’t Riley made her stomach turn. 

“Aww, we know you kids are just doin’ the whole gay thing for attention, pickin’ up boys. You can practice here, this is a...what are the pansies callin’ it...safe space?” James said with a chuckle, nodding towards the fridge. “Bets get me a beer. So what d’ya say, sweetheart? Kiss that chubby ‘lil thing n’ I’ll give you a fiver!” He plopped down on the old couch, kicking up his feet, while Betty scoffed half heartedly, lighting a cigarette before trotting off obediently to get ‘her man’ a beer.

Riley’s friendly smile turned feral as she widened her stance, gesturing to herself, baggy jeans, ripped up band shirt, short hair pulled up in a ponytail to show the shaved underside. “Does it look like I’m tryin’ to pick up men, asshole?” she asked. 

“Riley...don’t come into my house talkin sh--” Betty shut up, giving the door a nervous glance. Riley’s shadow, or Vera, rather, was leaning against it, watching the scene unfold. 

Riley shot a glance towards Emma's mother. “You’re gonna let him come in here bein’ gross to your daughter?” she asked, gesturing at the wannabe thug sprawled out on the couch, hand on his crotch in the universal ‘I’m slimy and I know it’ pose. 

Emma came out, slinging her purse across her shoulder, her feet covered in sparkly white flats. Hearing Riley’s comment, her face drained of color. She reached Riley, gently tugging her arm. “It’s fine, he didn’t mean anything by it,” she whispered, trying to save the situation and protect her mom from a beating later. 

“Nah, Betty, I think if the ‘lil dyke is bein like that, you should kick her out of your house. Remember, your kid’s the kid, you’re the boss,” he drawled, his meaning clear. 

Betty straightened slightly even as Vera pushed off the door, striding in and grabbing Emma's hand and Riley's arm. 

“Yeah...Emmaline, you st--” Betty began, trying to look like her idea of a stern parent.

Vera cut her off. “Miss Emma will be coming with us, Mrs. Woodford. She has a doctor's appointment in order to be able to attend school. And, I think it is best, until you get this issue with your boyfriend resolved, that she stay with the Petrovs. The way he was speaking to the ~children~ was entirely inappropriate.” Vera stood firmly for a moment, sliding the full ice blue fury of her gaze to James. “As was calling them names.”

James stood and Betty angrily stubbed out her cigarette. Making her way towards Emma, she reached out, grabbing Emma’s arm in a bruising hold and yanking before Riley could tuck Emma back into her possessive hold, making the ginger cry out. “She’s MY daughter, bitch!” Betty growled, before turning her head to cough loudly, giving Riley time to push Emma through the door. Riley felt like she was going to throw up as her girl’s face became streaked with tears. 

Riley swung around once Emma was safely behind her and her bodyguard, ignoring the insistent tugging on her shirt. “Then fuckin’ act like it!” she hissed out, jerking her chin up. “Stop takin’ some gross dude’s words over your fuckin’ daughter’s.” She kept her voice low. “You think that last guy fuckin’ off was an accident? How ‘bout the guy before that?” her gaze swiveled to the greasy blonde man. Vera caught his wrist as it swung up, presumably to backhand her charge. Jerking it behind his back, she pinned him to the wall, her knee pressing into the backs of his.

“Riley! Vera! Stop!” Emma cried out, digging her nails into Riley’s arm. “Riley, shut the fuck up! Can we just go? I’m sorry, Mom! I’ll be--”

Riley cut her off. “You shut the fuck up, Emma. Go to the car.” She turned her attention back to Betty, who had a look of utter fury and fear on her face. Of course Emma didn’t go to the car, but she did stop pushing the arm keeping her out of the door. “You let these bags of scum come in and trample over you and your kid! You think we didn’t see the bruises on her? I don’t give a shit if you let these--” she hesitated, searching for the words in her fury addled mind. Normal curse words weren’t good enough. “--bags of fuck slap you around, but once they lay a finger on my Emma...” She trailed off at Emma’s horrified whine.

“Mom, I didn’t say anything, I swear!” Emma promised, pinching Rileys arm again. “Shut ~up~ Riley!” she begged. Already, neighbors were peeking through their doors, though she knew no one would say anything. They hadn’t when they’d heard her screaming last time either. 

“I’m callin’ the cops. Shoulda ended this…~thing~ between you and Emma a long time ago. It ain’t healthy...ain’t natural.” Betty started for the phone, jumping at the thump of James hitting the ground, aided by a well placed soldier’s boot. “An...you never respected me or my daughter!” Betty screamed, turning to cough again at the stress to her throat, and earning another whimper from Emma as she was gathered in Vera’s protective hold. 

Instead of fighting it, Emma turned into the woman's chest. “Don’t hurt her! Please, Vera it’s not her fault!” she babbled. “Please tell Riley to stop, please...” she sobbed.

Vera shook her head. “I am sorry, this has been brewing in Miss Riley for a while. I think it is best if we let her have it out with your mother. Show her where she stands in your life.”

Meanwhile, Riley laughed, stepping over the groaning James. “Go ahead, Betty.” she said, throwing the confiscated energy drink in the trash can. “Tell the cops how Emma almost showed her body for money because you gambled it all away before paying rent. Or maybe, tell them you would rather buy a pack of smokes instead of feeding your daughter. Or how her clothes are bought with money Emma has to work for, or how her bed is older then she is...” She paused. “Or let's talk about how many vaccinations she’s had.”

”That’s none of your busine”-- Betty tried again, between coughs.

Riley cut her off. “I’m. Not. Finished.” she growled, her voice low. She took the phone off its cradle, handing it to the older woman. “Here, call them. Tell them ‘bout your crack habit.”

Betty reared back as if she had been hit, then her brows furrowed. “I don’t smoke...”

Riley tutted softly. For a moment, she looked every inch the Bratva Prince. “I got the apartment bugged, Betty,” she said softly. “You think I’m gonna let my princess stay someplace where I don’t know what's happening? Do you think my parents would? If we didn’t think Emma woulda hated us, we woulda gotten custody of her five years ago, but it’s over now. You’re gonna get this shit cleaned up, you’re gonna keep shit in this hellhole; healthy shit, not processed boxed shit, ‘n you’re gonna keep these shitheads--” she swung a foot out, kicking the still groaning blonde with her Doc Marten-covered foot. “--Away from ~my~ girl. Or there’s gonna be hell to pay. Crash course in motherhood, fourteen years too late. You’re welcome.” 

Riley didn’t wait for an answer. She left Betty there, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Throwing a casual arm around her shaking girlfriend and leading her out the door, Riley made little shushing noises at Emma’s crying protests about her mother.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback pt 2
> 
> 14/16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: shots

Emma settled in the back of the black car. Usually, especially since she had just turned sixteen, Riley would drive, but this time Riley sat in the back with Emma while the girl curled up against her, trembling.

“Riley, you don’t understand! She’s gonna be super pissed. Like, super pissed, it’s gonna make her sicker. An she’s not gonna sleep, and he’s prolly gonna hit her coz they ~all~ hit her and it’s not like you hit me coz you just like--” Emma made a hand gesture reminiscent of spanking. “-- with my butt.. And...and I-- I can’t breathe!”

Riley took the tissues from Vera as they drove off, pulling away enough to attempt to wipe the black smudges off of Emma's tear-streaked face. “Princess, look at me.” she ordered softly, waiting until Emma's gaze met her own. “That ain’t your responsibility, baby. SHE’s the mom. Not you; here, blow.” Riley pressed the tissue to Emma’s nose, then checked her watch. “We got like two hours before your appointment, we’ll go to that place you like, the pizza place?”

Emma wrinkled her nose, but blew obediently, turning her head away and tugging her skirt over her thighs. “I can’t eat pizza, Riley,” she muttered. “S all carbs.” She rolled her eyes, the panic attack slowly subsiding as they drove, though truthfully, at least at the moment, Emma had no clue where they were going. “Sides, I only got like 10 dollars an’ no way mom’s gonna get my gym shorts now. Stupid gym!”

Riley glanced up at the driver's seat, meeting Vera’s gaze in the rear view. The woman gave her head a quick shake before returning her eyes to the road. “Em, you don’t gotta pay when you’re with us. I dunno why you always gotta fight me on this shit,” Riley grumbled, turning the other girl’s face back towards her and doing a few more quick swipes to clean up the rest of the tears and makeup. “I’ve seen your fridge, the only thing not carby is the chicken I brought. What have you been eating lately?” 

Emma looked through the window, confused. “Why don’t we just stay downtown? My doctor’s down there right? We can go to the park! Or maybe hang out by the river and feed the ducks? I mean, I know it’s crazy hot but...” She was also desperately trying to change the subject.

“You’re gonna see my doctor; he’s about a half hour out. What have you been eating, Em?” Riley asked again, watching Emma squirm, a true sign she was guilty of something, though Riley felt a twitch of pride that Emma wasn’t scared enough of her to do what she wanted. However, when it came to Emma's health, that stubbornness also annoyed Riley. 

Emma glared at the back of Vera’s head, lifting her hand to chew on her thumb nail. “Chicken.” she lied. “And, like..y’know..a soda here and there.” She turned her attention fully to Riley, a blush high on her cheeks. “I have Medicaid, there’s only like two places that take it.”

Vera snorted in the front, glancing back and shaking her head. “You two are very cute.” She turned the car, pulling into a little strip mall. “I will leave you ladies alone and we will get the Subway. Or do you want the--” Vera squinted, muttering something in Russian before switching back to English for Emma's benefit. “China Cafe?” 

“China Cafe!” Riley called. “Stir fry with extra veggies for both of us!” She paused, cupping her hand over Emma's protesting mouth, just barely holding in a laugh when she felt Emma’s toes, only clad in the ballet flats, digging into her ankle. “See if they got some kinda juice for Emma. I want tea, chow mein noodles for her, rice for me.” She leaned over the console, blasting the air while Vera nodded and shut the door, then flopped back down in the seat. “Want some gum?” 

Emma stared, her mouth open slightly before she gestured. “Are you fuckin’ deaf?” she snapped. “Did you like, forget English? I’m dieting! I can’t eat that, it’s full of like, fat and...carbs and...fat and sugar! Agh!” She turned to push open the door, then pushed again, annoyed when the door didn’t open.

“Child safety locks,” Riley pointed out, flipping the pack of gum over with a feigned look of confusion. “Nah, it’s like fifteen calories, babe.”

“Fucking...hell, Riley!” Emma grumped, crossing her arms over her chest. Riley smirked, that knot in her stomach finally loosening. “I’m not hungry. Anyways, I told you I ate...the chicken and I had three Rockstars this morning.”

Riley’s brows practically shot to her hairline. “Three??” she asked. “Like, three?” She reached for Emma's wrist, flipping the annoyed girl’s arm over and pressing her fingers to Emma’s pulse point. 

“Riles, it’s fine!” Emma said with a small huff. “It couldn’t be on the market if it wasn’t?” But she let Riley fuss over her. “Still not eatin’ though,” she muttered, her stomach giving a protesting growl, putting the lie to Emma’s words. 

“Em! Your pulse is a hundred and three! How many times do I gotta tell you notta drink that shit?” Riley asked. Emma opened her mouth to say something, but instead squeaked when the car made that beeping sound signalling that it was unlocked. “Jesus fuck, Vera, you scared me!” Emma said instead, face flaming when her stomach growled again.

Riley leaned forward, resting her arms on the console. “There’s a lil like...chill out area outside of the building with chairs ‘n tables n’ stuff.” She winced at the foot that pushed against her ass, reaching behind her to capture Emma's foot. “We can eat there.” She sat back, tilting her head sideways, keeping the ginger’s ankle in her grasp. “Cute panties, Em,” she teased, giving a playful leer, before letting Emma’s ankle go.

Emma was laughing and kicking her leg. “Oh my god, stop looking at my underwear, you lil weirdo!” She finally straightened herself, brushing her hair back off her face and adjusting her clothes; stomach knotting slightly as they drove up to one of the fancier business complexes. “Riles this won’t take my medical card,” she warned again as the car slid into the parking lot.

Riley stared at Emma for a moment before pulling her own door open and slipping out, both Vera and Emma following soon after. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, yer gonna see this one from now on,” Riley said firmly. Riley threw her arm around Emma again, snuggling her close and ignoring the snooty glares from the few people wandering about the plaza. She pulled out her cell phone, flipping it open. “Dahlia’s comin’ to hang out too; we got ‘bout an hour.”

Emma shook her head, flopping down on the picnic table’s seat. “Yeah, but ~my~ doctor takes mom's notes,” she pointed out, turning her head away from the takeout containers while digging in her purse for spare change. She pointedly ignored Vera’s Russian mumbling, though Emma did pick up a few of the curse words, because of course she’d have learned those first.

“Mhm.” Riley muttered, pulling her pants a bit firmer around her waist before she grabbed her own container closer to herself. She plopped down on the top of the table, her leg pressed to Emma’s side. “Turn ‘round and eat, babe, we got your favorite; extra crunchy noodles.” She grabbed her bottle of tea, digging around in the takeout bag before tugging out a bottle of apple juice and setting it next to Emma’s container. 

“Not hungry.” Emma muttered. Gathering enough change she rose to head toward the soda machine, but Riley’s booted feet planted on either side of her thighs trapped Emma in.

“Huh, weird, I didn’t hear myself say...” Riley put on a horrible British accent. “‘Emma dear, I have procured only the finest shredded meat and bagged peas and beans for your enjoyment. Please will you nourish your beautiful body.’ I’m pretty sure I heard myself say ‘Turn around and eat, coz we got less than an hour.’”

Vera shrugged her shoulders when Emma glanced at her, gesturing towards Riley in a ‘You seein’ this shit?’ sorta way before she tilted her head up. “Want me to call you “mom” too?” Emma bitched, though she was pretty used to Riley bossing her around. 

She lifted her head right as she heard screeching tires and a flash of neon green pulling into a parking spot, just barely hearing Riley mutter “that’d be kinda hot, actually!” before she shoveled a forkful of noodles into her mouth, lifting her hand in a wave.

“Oh, gosh, sorry! Eesh, sorry, coming through!” Dahlia pulled her neon green Volkswagen Beetle into a parking lot, just barely missing a middle aged woman walking her poodle. She swung the door open quickly, unfolding long legs from the car and adjusting the dark green peasant skirt she wore. “I know, I know, totally tragic, here, have a twenty!” she chirped, pulling the bill from her designer coach purse and pressing it into the woman's hand before she bent to grab a bag from the car. She pulled out her phone, flipping it open to start the long task of texting before she heard a familiar voice. Lifting her gaze and shielding her eyes from the brutal summer light, she let out a happy squee, seeing the unmistakable little group nearby.

Dahlia Drang, the incredibly tall, slender and spoiled eighteen year old adopted daughter of Sturmund and Phineas Drang, had known Riley since Riley was in diapers, having been adopted from Russia a few years before the Petrov family moved to America, after a raid of the orphanage she lived in. They generally moved in the same circles, though the only “low rent” person Dahlia dealt with was Emma, because, quite simply, Emma was Riley’s person. 

Emma fell quiet, wrapping an arm around Riley’s leg as a flash of both awe and jealousy hit her stomach, making her cheeks flush a bright pink. She shook her head quickly when Riley offered her a drink of tea, though she gave a little wave to Dahlia.

While the only way some one would know Riley had plenty of funds would be the expensive cell phone in her pocket and the fact that she had a bodyguard, Dahlia oozed ‘high class’ even if she did look like she’d just stepped off of the cover of some fundamentalist church magazine. Dark brown hair wound around her crown in a fancy braid, and she wore an ankle length skirt, high necked white top and just a hint of gloss on her lips. Emma thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Not ‘hot’ like Riley, but ethereal and full of classic beauty. 

“Wipe the drool, Em,” Riley said drily. Hopping off the table, she met Dahlia halfway, giving the bag a raised brow before she hugged Dahlia. The girl was like a sister, and on top of that, Riley really only had eyes for Emma, unless that blonde chick from But I’m A Cheerleader showed up. Then Emma would have to share.

Emma stayed where she was, eyeing the containers of food as her stomach twisted. She hadn’t eaten anything today, and very little yesterday; but she kept telling herself it’d be worth it when she started high school ‘skinny.’ The ginger gave Vera a shake of her head when the woman nudged the container toward Emma, jerking her head toward Riley in warning. “Pft, I ain’t scared of her,” Emma muttered, though she took a swig of juice, offering a small smile and wave when both Riley and Dahlia approached. 

Riley took her spot back on top of the table while the taller girl sat down on the bench, throwing her arms around Emma in a hug. “Oh my gosh, Emma are you ~so~ excited to start freshman year? Don’t worry, my dad is super good at physicals! I mean he’s replaced hearts, a couple of tiny shots won’t even hurt!” 

Emma shook her head. “I have a mmph!” She blinked, her mouth suddenly full of beef and chow-mein, and she hadn’t even noticed Dahlia put food in her mouth! Bringing her hands up to cover her mouth for a moment, she gave Dahlia a startled look, but the taller woman just chattered away obliviously, gesturing with her fork. “Oh gosh, I remember ninth grade! Daddy said I couldn’t go to public school, but papa let me go to a private one; that all girls school up on the hill? Ugh, it’s so stuffy, Em, and ~totally~ haunted. The story goes that nuns buried their babies in the walls, ~so~ creepy!” Dahlia just continued to talk, telling the story of the haunted girls school while she shoveled Emma's meal into her mouth, bite after big bite. Emma was so engrossed in the story that she wasn’t even paying attention, just mechanically chewed and swallowed while Riley and Vera looked on with bemused expressions. “Oh, gosh I’m just chattering away and it’s time to go. Here, you can eat the rest later!” She pulled Emma up, giving her a little spin. 

Riley watched, rubbing her nose to hide her smirk before hopping up off the table. “I got it! We got twenty minutes. Vera, will you take this to the car?” Riley asked. “Uh, there’s leftovers, and that guy over there with the sign prolly would like ‘em, actually.” 

She took Emma's hand as both Dahlia and Vera stood. “I have to use the bathroom,” Emma muttered sheepishly.

Riley paused, squinting her eyes at Emma. “Do you really gotta go? Or are you doin’ that ‘I’m stalling coz I’m bein’ a fraidy cat’ thing?” she asked as the trio made their way into the building, goose pimples rising on both Emma and Riley's flesh at the temperature shift. 

Emma sighed, gesturing toward the bathroom sign. “Yes! You wanna come watch?” she snarked, then paused, pulling her hand away. “Never mind, don’t even think of answering that, ~mom~,” she said sarcastically, flouncing off to the bathroom.

Riley shook her head. “Every time she says that I kinda wanna pin her to a wall and fuck her stupid,” she admitted, turning and leaning against the wall, watching Dahlia. “So, what’s up with that Jedi shit you pulled?” Riley asked, amusement in her voice. She paused a moment as a couple walked past, whispering and giggling. She was about to push off the wall, but Dahlia shut them up with an icy stare before turning her attention back to Riley. “It's a trick papa uses with some of the abused slaves,” she said with a shrug. “Some people don’t let ‘em eat, and I mean, they can’t go to the cops, coz what are they gonna say? ‘My master didn’t let me eat?’ So...” she gestured. “Anyways, Papa will talk while feedin’ them and they’d be listening so hard they don’t pay attention to what’s going into their mouths.”

Riley knew their family was in some sort of...almost...cult based off of a series of fairly badly written books, so she didn’t flinch at the word “slave”. Instead, she just nodded her head. “Well, if you get any trouble with the abusers...” she trailed off as Emma wandered back out, throwing an arm around her. “Wash your hands?” she teased, snickering at the annoyed look her girl gave her.

***

Emma blinked, looking around the brightly colored office...the brightly colored ~empty~ office. “RIles? Uh, this isn’t the right place.”

“Good afternoon, Riley!” a cheerful man in purple scrubs spoke up, as he handed the clipboard he was holding, not to Emma, but to Riley. “We have most of Emmaline's information down, but if you could just--”

Emma gaped, swinging a shocked look at Dahlia, who stood there flipping through one of the parenting magazines. Then speaking up, she tried to sound authoritative: “Uh, hey! So, I’m Emma, and I don’t think Medicaid will pay for this so...I’m just gonna--” she started slowly backing out of the office waiting room until Riley grabbed the strap of her purse, halting her escape. 

“We’re in the right place, princess,” Riley said absently, looking over the forms, of which there seemed to be half a million.

“This is a pedia...pedee...” Emma struggled, trying to remember the word. “This is a freaking kids’ office, Riley!” she pointed out, reaching for the clipboard. 

“You’re a kid,” Riley said simply, flipping the page over and writing on the other side. She gestured to it, speaking to the man in scrubs. “This isn’t her right address, and she’s not on these meds any more.”

“I am NOT a kid, Riley Petrova!” Emma protested, stomping her foot.

Riley turned, waving at Dahlia as she bounced to the back to go talk to her dad before faking a startled expression. “Really? Then one of us is goin’ to jail. I’m only sixteen, I can’t be fingerbangin’ an adult...” 

Emma gasped, covering her face. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you just said that out loud!” she whispered, jumping at a sound from behind them

“Ah, yes, Miss Petrova, and your little--” The redhead in scrubs paused, smirking just a little. “Emma, is it? Come in, we are ready for you.” The doctor held the door open, dancing hazel eyes watching the teenagers. Emma gulped, ready to bolt, but instead, followed Riley’s push to her back.

“I’m Emma. Emmaline Woodford. And, this was like, super sweet of you. But like, I’m on Medicaid, you know, and--” she blurted, trailing along slowly after the doctor.

Doctor Sturmund “Rain” Drang made the appropriate listening sounds as they walked down the hall, Emma babbling away. “So you see, I have a doctor...” she finished once they got to the scales. 

“The Petrovs were kind enough to procure you a new one. Step on the scale, please.” Rain ordered. 

“No, but..I don’t really need a new--”

Riley gripped her waist, pushing her on the scale and leaning forward to whisper “Shush!” in Emma’s ear before she stepped back out of the way. 

“Miss Petrova, I have a lovely belt that will hold those trousers up perfectly. Though those underpants are quite fetching,” Rain teased lightly, moving the little rectangle. “Thank you, Emma, please step down.”

Emma stepped down, tucking herself into Riley’s side. “Why's he callin’ you “Miss” but just callin’ me “Emma?” she whispered, slightly irked by this seeming disrespect of her person. 

Rain led them into the doctor's office. “Because she is the head of your relationship,” he explained. “Please sit.” he added, gesturing to the paper-covered table.

“I’ll stand, thank you,” Emma said politely, squeezing Riley’s hand. “And..she’s not..we’re totally equal, there is no head...or feet, just us.”

Riley bit the corner of her mouth, giving her girl a look out of the corner of her eyes before she glanced up at the tall doctor, who was quickly jotting notes. “Mm..equal, totally equal, yep...” she agreed. “Get on the table, Em.”

Emma gave a dramatic sigh, but hopped on the table, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Uh huh. Are you sexually active, Emma?” the doctor asked. “Don’t be shy, these are questions we ask all teenagers entering the ninth grade. And it’s perfectly okay if you’re not.”

“No! I mean, well, yeah..I guess?” Emma answered

“Any chance you could be pregnant?” 

Emma's eyes widened. The only person she’d ever had sex with was Riley. But...she didn’t want Riley to know that! “Uh..Yeah! Totally a chance..I mean like, whooo all the boys...” she said, trying to keep a knowing look on her face.

Riley snorted. “No, there’s no chance,” she answered, nodding towards the table. “You’re a horrible liar, Em.”

“Miss Petrova.” Rain chided, pulling a specimen cup from one of the drawers. “If your girl is sexually active--”

“I don’t have a dick, doctor,” Riley stated, her voice going cold. “An everyone else knows not to touch what’s mine.” 

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off. “We’ll do a urine test; we have to anyway to check for infection. Better to be on the safe side, “ the doctor added gently.

Riley’s jaw tensed, but she nodded once, moving to fill a cup with water while Emma and the doctor talked. “Everything looks fine. We just have to...” Rain paused, knitting his brow. “Emmaline, you didn’t get your fifth grade shots.” he stated, flipping the pages.

“Oh! Yeah, I have a note, Mom said I was accepted.” Emma rooted through her purse, pulling out the note, written on notebook paper, and handing it over. “You know, my body, my choice,” she said brightly.

Riley stood, brushing her hand through Emma's hair. “The doctor is gonna give you your shots, babe,” She said gently but firmly, “And the word is ‘exempt,’ which, you’re not.”

The doctor glanced at Riley. “Ah..I get it now...” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. “Emmaline, your other doctor, he didn’t give you your vaccinations either?” 

Emma jerked her head away. “No! Mom said I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to, it’s ~my~ body!” she shot back. “Riley, leggo of my arm!” 

Rain balled the note up, tossing it in the trash before nodding and slipping out of the room for a moment as Riley stepped in front of Emma, holding her arms down. “Em, breathe, baby. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” she promised, using her free hand to tuck the short sleeve up and away from Emma’s bicep.

“Riley! I said no!” Emma protested, kicking her legs out, though the taller woman simply trapped those legs with hers. “Riley, lemme go! I swear to god I’ll scream!” she warned. “Mom said I’m old enough to--”

RIley cut her off. “From this point on, I don’t give a shit, princess.” They heard the door open, then slowly shut. “Breathe, you’re fine.”

“No! I said no! My doctor said if I said no that he couldn’t legally--”

Riley leaned forward, pressing her lips against Emma’s, one hand tangling in the girls hair. She flicked her tongue out; Emma’s, as usual, gingerly following after, a little sighing moan escaping from both of them.

“Finished.” Rain said lightly, an amused look on his face, as both needles slipped into the sharps container. “Would you like a sticker, Emmaline?”

Emma sort of stared at Riley, dazed. She hadn’t felt a thing. “Yes please...” she mumbled softly.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> present.  
> Rileys home!

Riley checked her texts right as she pulled into the little driveway, snorting softly.

Emma: Dahlia’s making me wear that stupid harness  
Emma: Bring home nachos  
Emma: Are you dead yet?  
Emma: I’m gonna kick these people into next month  
Emma: *string of angry-face emojis*

Climbing out of the car, Riley dropped the phone into the pocket of her leather jacket. She figured she’d grab her duffel bag from the trunk and unpack the little bit of clothes she’d brought, along with the package she ordered, knowing her girl was gonna throw a fit, and she’d probably have to wrestle Emma down to get her into the new things. The thought of wrestling Emma into submission made Riley grin just a little as she made her way to the house. 

“Honey, I’m--” Riley paused, blinking slowly at the scene. Rain and Phinneas were leaning against the counter while Emma, Jade and Dahlia were at the table with brightly colored pastry bags surrounding them, all three giggling as they decorated what she assumed were sugar cookies. ”Home?” she finished, giving the scene a curious look. She had expected a mess, broken dishes, or at the very least, Emma off in a corner screaming. 

“Em, look who’s home!” the slight Asian man whispered, nudging Emma, who had her head bent, the tip of her tongue poking out as she ever-so-carefully colored in the heart shaped cookie. She glanced first at Jade, squinting. “Huh?” Then up, her eyes brightened as she jumped to her feet. 

“Riley! You’re home!” she squeaked, the chair tipping over as she rushed Riley, throwing herself into the other woman's arms as her body relaxed fully. Emma hated when Riley went on these “business” trips, and she’d known the Petrovs long enough to understand that ‘business’ usually meant ‘something dangerous.’ 

“I gave her a half a tab of Xanax,” Dahlia whispered to Riley after rising with a couple plates. She offered the first plate to her dads. “She was starting to freak out ‘coz you weren’t home yet.” She nudged Emma, raising her voice slightly. “Em you wanna show Daddy what you made her?” 

Usually she’d give Dahlia a scowl at the condescending tone, but the medicine seemed to put Emma in a different headspace, so instead she flashed another smile, pulling away long enough to point to the other plate. “See! We made cookies! Well, Phinneas made cookies, and we decorated them. I made a heart.” she bragged, bouncing on her bare toes. “Are we still going to town? Are we gonna see Anya and Vaughn? Can I have a puppy?”

Riley shook her head, but took the cookie. “Yes, yes, and we’ll see,” she said. Breaking the heart in half, she handed Emma one half before setting the other back on the plate. “Thanks,” she mouthed to Dahlia, moving out of the doorway. “We’ll head out in a bit, ‘kay, princess? I just need to freshen up a bit and stretch my legs.” Riley toed off her shoes, padding barefoot to the bathroom with Emma following after.

“Why don’t we move back to the city?” Emma asked curiously, tugging at the hem of her t shirt. 

“Because you don’t belong in the city. You belong here where you can’t get into trouble.” Riley gave her girl a little wink, grabbing one of the combs to straighten her own hair and studying her face in the mirror.

“You have a bruise,” Emma said softly, moving closer to touch the dark spot that marred Riley’s skin, smoothing her fingers gently over it, as her bottom lip wobbled a bit. 

RIley turned her head, kissing Emma's fingers. “That’s generally what happens when one gets punched in the face, princess,” she said wryly. Moving in front of Emma, she leaned down to nuzzle against her neck, breathing deeply. “I like this new perfume; what is it? Somethin’ you put together? Damn, baby, I missed you!” 

WIth a small sigh, Emma wrapped her arms around Riley. “It’s vanilla and orange and...uh...somethin’ else I...” she paused. “Why the fuck are we talkin’ about what I smell like? If..we’re gonna continue this thing, you gotta stop doin’ the whole...weird illegal thing.”

RIley pulled away just long enough to wrap her hands around Emma's waist, lifting her just enough to set her on the sink’s counter while she wedged her own slender hips between her legs, that signature little grin on her lips. She slid her hands lazily up her girl’s waist, cupping her breasts over the thin t shirt. “Look at you, givin’ orders and settin’ boundaries,” Riley teased, leaning forward. “It’s super adorable. Kinda makes me wanna...” She paused, tongue licking up the side of her girl’s face. “Bend you over n’ fuck you stupid.” 

Emma whined softly, squirming. “I’m serious, Riley! I hate bein’ terrified whenever you leave, thinkin’ someone's gonna like, kill you or cut off your head or something!” She grabbed for her top. “Stop that!” 

Emma's top finally off, Riley gazed at her, darting her tongue to wet her lips, one hand easily pinning her girl’s hands. She studied Emma's body, counting every freckle and mark she’d known for ever so long. “Yeah, it’s kinda terrifying, isn’t it, baby?” she asked, fingers smoothing over Emma's skin, scraping blunt tipped nails over those puckering, hardening nipples. “Lean back, princess,” she husked out, shifting the girl’s hips.

“Riley!” Emma snapped, pushing the other woman halfheartedly, though she still easily shifted forward, resting her back against the wall while Riley slid her leggings off. “Naw it’s cool,” Emma groused. “I’ll just sit here on this cold ass marble, naked as fuck while you...hhnnnng!” Riley had parted Emma's thighs while the girl was bitching, fingers moving to part the light dusting of ginger curls before she thrust her fingers inside, Emma instinctively gripping around her.

Riley kept that smirk on her face, watching Emma's expression as it went from annoyance to concentration, feeling the ginger’s hips rock up before she leaned down, swiping her tongue over one of those breasts. “See, the thing is,” she whispered, nibbling a line from breast to shoulder before she whispered in the girl’s ear again, curling her fingers in while her palm ground against Emma's mons juuust enough. “You don’t get to make demands, baby. ‘M pretty sure I explained this.” She pressed her fingers deeper, pulling out just long enough to add a third, grabbing Emma's hand as it went to clap over her mouth. “Nuh, princess, let ‘em hear you.” she murmured, bright green eyes lust-blasted. She wasn’t gentle, her palm slapping, almost punishingly, against Emma as the redhead rocked her hips, little pleading moans escaping her throat. 

RIley had found, throughout the years, that Emma was much more receptive when she wanted to cum, her own hips rocking in time to the thrusts of her fingers, feeling Emma's muscles grip those digits as little begging pants and whines escaped the girl’s throat. “Now.” Riley said softly, keeping her voice that low, whispery sound as she stilled her fingers, keeping them pressed right against that little spongy spot, palm rocking from side to side. “My little girl is gonna cum all over Daddy's fingers. Then she’s gonna go upstairs n’ put on that pretty ‘lil sundress that Daddy likes.” She nibbled against Emma's ear, pausing a moment. “Then we’re gonna go have a nice night on the town. ‘N she’s gonna be a good girl, right?”

Emma whined, rocking her hips up again. She would pretty much say anything for Riley to tip her over that crest. “Yeessss!” she gasped out, biting hard on her lip to still the soft cry.

“Yes what, baby?” Riley prompted, moving her fingers again, her hand sliding down to grab Emma's knee, tugging it up to tilt her just right.

Emma shuddered. “Yesss, daddy,” she whined, her body tensing, then seizing as the orgasm hit her. 

RIley let Emma ride out her orgasm on her fingers, watching, before slowly pulling them out of her girl’s clenching pussy. She smirked, helping Emma down, and dropping the long t shirt over her head, turning the ginger towards the bathroom door. “G’on, baby. We’ll wait for you downstairs.”

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> their outting.

Emma was still twitching when she slipped out of the bathroom. Jade flashed a smirk over his shoulder at her, having put away the last of the cookies, then tossing the rag in the sink. “You alright, Em?” he asked. “You were making a lot of noise...Ow.” Jade gave a playfully baleful glare at Phinneas, rubbing the spot on his head where Phinn had just thwapped him.

“Shut up!” she grumbled, turning to stomp up the stairs. She slipped into the room she shared with Riley, pulling open the closet and sorting through clothing, pulling away Riley’s button downs and her own dresses in confusion. “I don’t know which one is her damn favorite,” she muttered, staring at all the brightly colored fabrics. “She bought alla them, they’re ~all~ her favorites!” Her gaze landed on one pastel colored dress, gathered at the waist with strings that tied at her shoulders, and of course, it was pink. Though she was told throughout the years that redheads should ~never~ wear pink, she knew Riley liked it. So, with a little sigh she tugged the dress down from the hanger, moving to the full length mirror and pressing it to herself. “Yeah, this works,” she said to herself, dropping it over her head. She bound her hair up in a tight bun atop her head, doing another once over in the mirror before heading back down the stairs.

The Drang family was all filing through the door to head home as Emma wandered into the living room, and though she’d never say it out loud, she kind of just wanted to stay home with Riley, rather than going out tonight. She peeked at Riley through her lashes as the other woman sat on the stool at the counter, lacing up her usual black boots.

“That’s the one, princess!” Riley praised, hopping off the stool and giving her girl a quick spin, watching the pleated skirt twirl around Emma's knees. She tipped her lover’s face up, giving a gentle kiss before turning her around to undo the tight bun, much to Emma’s irritation. 

“Riley it’s damp outside! My hair’s gonna frizz!” Emma pointed out as her hair fell around her shoulders. She felt Riley’s body heat leave for a few seconds before it returned, the sweet smell of some sort of product assaulting her senses as Riley worked it through Emma’s hair.

Riley separated the ginger curls carefully; she’d already popped a couple bobby pins into her mouth when she grabbed the hair cream, and it was quick and easy to swirl the sides of her girl’s hair up and pin them in place. Taking Emma by the shoulders, she studied her carefully, tugging bits of hair out to frame Emma’s face. “We’re goin’ to that restaurant. Jen just opened.” Riley said, as if Emma wasn’t giving her a glare that could burn anyone else on the spot. “We’re about two hours out, so you should bring something to do in the car. She paused, giving Emma a stern look. “Do I have to bring your harness, princess? Or can you behave and stay where I can see you?” she asked, her tone serious, those bright green eyes searching Emma’s.

Emma let Riley fuss over her. Truth be told, she missed it when they were apart, since Riley was the only one who ever made any kind of effort with her. Usually Emma was the one taking care of everyone else, though at the question, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a fuu--freaking child, Riley.” she stated, annoyance in her voice. “An’ I don’t know who ‘Jen’ is.” she pulled away, grabbing one of the many books that were piled on the table. “So we gonna just like..talk or are we gonna go?” she asked, toeing on a pair of flats and yanking at the door, which, of course, was locked.

Riley chuckled softly, grabbing her own jacket and sorting through the dresser, before pulling out a soft white sweater, draping it over Emma's shoulders. She pressed her thumb to the keypad, the tell-tale click of the lock sounding before Emma yanked on the door again.

“Y’know.” Emma pointed out, stomping to the car as Riley keyed in the code once again. “If there’s a fire or somethin’ I’m gonna be totally fucked, because you gotta lock the fuckin’ place down like it’s Fort Knox or some shit.” Emma pulled open the door to the black, unassuming car, slipping in and buckling her seatbelt before Riley had a chance to do it, slamming the door shut just as the other woman slipped in and started the car.

“See, that’s why I can’t leave ya alone. Wouldn’t want my girl to be rump roast.” Riley smirked, sorting through the music before pulling out of the drive, throwing her girl a wicked look. “Unless I’m roastin’ it, anyways...” she leered.

“Jesus!” Emma said with a laugh. “That was super lame, even for you.”

***

They were about ten minutes to the restaurant, and Emma was already getting tense. Though she tried not to show it, she’d stopped reading her book, tossing it in the back in favor of some mindless game on her phone, listening to the music that filled the car, secretly checking to see if she was able to send texts, her stomach tightening when she found out she actually could! Weirdly, she was half hoping RIley had blocked it so she had an excuse not to attempt escape. She distracted herself from this by singing along with the song now playing, but adding her own twist: 

“There are worse things, I could do.  
Than sleep with a girl, or two..  
Though the town thinks I’m trashy and no good,  
I suppose that could be true, but there are worse things  
I could do..  
I could flirt, with all the gals..smile at them and bat my eyes.”

Riley pulled up to the brightly lit building, shutting off the car and snickering softly. “Are you really genderbending Grease, Em?” she asked, casually scanning the area for several kinds of danger as well as points of escape, before climbing out of the car and moving to open Emma's door, jumping back when it swung open, nearly hitting her.

“Well, I’ve never slept with all the guys,” Emma pointed out, shoving the door open. “I’ve only slept with one guy, and it was gross...and messy... and--” she stopped, resisting the urge to smirk as Riley narrowed her eyes; a sure sign of jealousy. “I’ve slept with a lot of girls, though,” she mused, sweeping past Riley. “I love girls; soft girls, hard girls...” she continued her monologue. “Even girls that...” 

She fell silent when the other woman casually draped an arm around her waist and squeezed just a little bit too tightly. Riley bending to talk into Emma's ear, her voice soft and dangerous, reminding Emma that Riley had pretty much controlled her entire life since they’d first met.

“You slept with three very carefully vetted girls, princess. And that cunt that tried to turn you into a meth-head whore is somewhere in Europe chokin’ on several cocks for her pimp. You tried with Jake, and you couldn’t because it was...what was the word…’icky.’ Keep tryin’ to make me jealous, babygirl. Give Daddy a reason to keep you on lockdown for the rest of our lives.”

Emma flashed a concerned look up at Riley, then bit her lip and nodded, going silent as they wandered into the restaurant. Riley talked to the host before they were seated at the large table with Riley's parents and the Drangs.

Anya beamed at Emma. “You look so much better in Riley’s care, Emma. I hope this silly little bid for independence is over,” Anya said softly, passing Emma a menu before giving Vaugn a fond look. “My Vaughn wanted to sow his wild oats as well. I think he settled when he was...about your age too.” 

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off with a “Gross, mama, I really don’t want to know about dad sowing anything!” from Riley. Emma giggled softly at Anya's little sigh, lowering her head to read the menu, though her lips pressed together slightly. It was all fancy stuff she could barely pronounce, but at least there was a section of soups. They weren’t Anya's soups, but they’d do in a pinch.

“May I have a bowl of Shchi, please?” Emma asked, when it was her turn to order. It was a comfort soup Anya had made for her whenever she was sick, and right now she really needed something familiar, her gaze bouncing from the bathroom to the front doors every once in a while. “And a glass of wine?” 

“Cut the glass with at least two thirds club soda,” Riley instructed. “She also wants...” Riley paused, flipping through the menu. “Do you want to share a steak with me, princess? Or do you want your own--never mind. You can never finish a whole steak.” Riley smiled at the waiter, who was shifting on his feet and giving Emma a curious look. “Get me a twelve ounce porter, medium rare, a side salad, and glazed carrots.” Riley thought for a moment, hmming softly. “And a glass of wine sounds good too. Full; you don’t need to cut mine. Thank you.”

Emma lowered her voice while the other diners chatted around them, though, as usual, Anya was keeping a careful eye on the pair. Emma was still her daughter, even if they weren’t blood, and in Anya's mind, Emma would always be that child who needed a firm hand. “I don’t want my wine cut, Riley, and I just want the damn soup,” Emma blurted quietly, but with a hint of defiance. 

Riley stared for a brief moment, then called the waiter back over. “Change Emma's drink order. She’ll have a ginger ale.” Emma made a sound of disagreement, but Riley reached out, squeezing her knee in warning. 

“Is...that what you want, Miss?” The waiter asked gently. “I can bring your wine if--”

The waiter was cut off, Anya's voice cold. “I believe, sir, that I am the one paying you; and if you do not go get our meals, including what my daughter ordered for her wife, I will ask for another waiter who will do what we wish. Thank you.”

The waiter hesitated for a moment, looking indecisive, but finally nodded and moved to put in their order. 

“I don’t want ginger ale, Riley.” Emma whispered furiously. “Why do you think you can just dictate everything?” She jerked her leg away, throwing Anya a furious glare. “I’m not her wife!” she snapped, though Anya wasn’t paying attention anymore. Used to Emma’s temper, she was chattering animatedly with Phinneas and ignoring the little stubborn moment.

“Keep going, princess,” Riley said conversationally, lazily buttering a slice of the crusty bread left on the table and biting into it. “And you’ll get water with your dinner.” She held the other half to Emma's lips. “Be a good princess, ‘n I’ll let you have a couple sips of mine.” 

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Emma turned her head away, which had Riley leaning over to whisper in her ear again. To anyone else, Riley just looked like a lover being sweet, but no one else could hear the soft threat, either. “Continue showin’ your ass, princess, and I’ll drag you to the bathroom n’ beat it. Don’t test me; you know I will.” Cupping her princess’s chin she guided it back towards the bread. Emma, who might still have a small sense of self-preservation despite her rebellion, opened her mouth just enough to take a small bite, staring into Riley’s face. 

Riley flashed a smile, straightening and stuffing the rest into her mouth. Emma sat silently while the group talked and laughed; and though she wanted to cry, and wanted to...not do what she was thinking about, she tried her best not to let it show. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt like she was going to throw up.

The meals came, though Emma was having trouble eating; she knew Riley was watching her like a hawk. Emma wasn’t used to guarding her emotions around Riley, for some reason. Riley was the only person Emma always let her emotions fly on. Be it happiness or sadness or anger, Riley normally saw it all. But today Emma was faking it, flashing little smiles and forcing herself to eat the soup, though she avoided the slice of steak, neatly cut into cubes. Finally, she pushed her chair back, moving to rise before she felt Riley’s hand on her thigh, the woman giving her a curious look.

“I have to use the restroom, Riley.” she whispered softly, keeping her voice polite. Though she should have known that would have raised warning bells in Riley's mind, Emma went on with her little plan. 

Riley kept her expression placid. “Three bites of meat, and you may,” she said, nodding to the small plate at the side of the half-gone soup. 

“I don’t want the damn meat, Riley!” Emma ground out. 

“I don’t give a shit, Emma,” Riley replied. “And keep on swearin’, you’re gonna have a mouthful of soap.”

Emma took a deep breath, calmly taking the fork she speared exactly three pieces, shoving it into her mouth and raising her brows in a ‘Happy now?’ expression

Riley nodded once, letting go of Emma’s knee. She watched Emma walk off into the bathroom, pulling out her phone to track the pink beacon once again, now that Emma couldn’t see what she was doing.

“Why do you put up with that?” It was Rain, nodding toward the retreating girl’s back. “She’s nothing but disrespectful to you. She’s like a little kid; she’ll probably never grow up. I say cut your losses.” He lazily sliced into his baked chicken as he talked, five horrified stares aimed at him. Anya, Vaughn and Riley’s expression the most angry. 

“Dad!” Dahlia gasped, her eyes as big as saucers. She’d just spent a week with Emma, and despite the moments of stubbornness, she really liked the redheaded girl.

Riley made a calming gesture at Dahlia. Leaning forward on her forearms, Riley flashed Rain one of those feral “Continue talking and I’m gonna put my fist in your face” grins. “Doctor, when you stop living your weird life and runnin’ with a buncha freaks basin’ their lives on a series of misogynistic, homophobic, and frankly, horribly written sci-fi novels, then you can give me your opinion on how I treat my girl. Not that your opinion counts.” She set her fork down, leaning back in her chair.

“Daddy didn’t mean it,” Dahlia tried to soothe. “He likes Emma, says she reminds him of me, except less, y’know, self destructive.” 

“Because you don’t run yourself ragged tryin’ to take care of other people until you’re almost dead, forgettin’, in the process, to take care of yourself!” Riley pointed out, her face serious. 

Vaughn smiled fondly. “It’s true, Our Emma--” Vaughn went off on a story about Emma passing out in the middle of an argument, while Riley sat quietly and watched the beacon. Then Riley stood abruptly, pulling out her credit card and tossing it on the table. “Ma, will you take care of our meals? Just keep the card ‘til we come visit the next time. 

Rain’s voice was dry. “Coz your girl took off again?” he asked, his face wearing a snarky, superior expression.

“Yep!” Riley said, popping the P extra forcefully, grabbing her coat and Emma's sweater before heading off without another word to anyone.

Emma went to the bathroom. Standing there for a moment she allowed herself to cry, glad she opted for not wearing any sort of makeup that would run and distort her face. For a few minutes she considered just going back to the table. Taking a breath, she nodded to herself. She’d just go back to the table. Riley would find her anyways...she always did.

She was moving back out of the bathroom when their waiter touched her shoulder. “Hey, ma’am, are you...are you in trouble?” he asked, his voice low. He knew the Drangs, and though they were okay people, he also knew some of the circles they ran with, and how it tended to be full of abuse that...while at first may have been consensual, turned into something not so much.

“What? Oh...no, I’m fine. Riley just isn’t...she doesn’t think it’s safe for me to drink,” Emma explained with a shrug, moving to step past him, but he stepped in front of her.

“Hey, I don’t know what your situation is with your girlfriend, or wife or whatever, but, you don’t have to take that,” the waiter said gently. “I can give you the number for like, a gay rights group, I know it’s a bit harder to find help if you’re in a same sex relationship.”

Emma smiled, but shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Really,” she said quickly. Watching as the waiter nodded once, she smiled and turned to go to the bathroom, then changed her mind when he stopped watching, and bolted toward a back door marked ‘EXIT.’

Emma chewed on her lip, then made a beeline for the outdoors, slipping into the cold night air and darting through an alley, thanking goodness she was still clutching her phone.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is in trouble.

Texts:

Emma: Come pick me up  
Christie: wat? Ur in the middle of no where  
Emma: I’m on 4th, by the gas station  
Christie: wheres Riley  
Emma: Don’t tell her, long story

Christy stared at her phone. Maria was in the kitchen, singing (badly) and making dinner. With a shake of her head, Christie stood, padding into the kitchen. “Emma did something stupid. Gotta go find her,” she announced, grabbing her car keys.

Maria paused, pulling the tamales out of the steamer and stacking them carefully. “Shit, what’d she do?” the short Latina asked, her own phone dinging now too. “That’d be Riley.” She shook her head, laughing softly. “Go get that crazy bitch before she gets murdered or somethin’.”

Christy laughed softly, reaching to grab one of the wrapped tamales, letting out a shriek when her knuckle was lightly smacked with a long spoon. “Bitch!” she grumped, but kissed her lover and toed on her shoes, heading for the door.

Riley: She there?  
Maria *blank face emoji* who?  
Riley: Bitch...  
Maria *laugh emoji*  
Riley: OMW  
Riley: 500 bucks N a suite at Holiday Inn if you two leave

Maria rolled her eyes, tossing her phone back on the counter and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Christie beeped the horn, seeing the pastel pink dressed, redheaded girl slinking along in an alleyway. Christie shook her head. “Way to get fucked up, Em.” she muttered, watching as Emma darted across the street, opening the back seat and sliding in. 

“What?” Christie asked. “I’m Drivin’ Miss Daisy now?” Christie clicked her tongue, but drove off anyway. “What the hell are you doin,’ Em? You know Riley’s gonna figure out where you fucked off to ‘n she’s gonna do her...thing and you’re gonna do your thing.”

Emma sighed, scrubbing her face. “The waiter dude asked if she was abusing me,” Emma said softly. “I wasn’t gonna, but...” she flopped back, looking at her texts. “She’s too controlling! We’ll...I’ll...talk to her in a couple days. Maybe we can work somethin’ out.”

Christie was silent for a moment, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, maybe,” she said finally. 

Riley: Are you still going pee, princess?  
Riley: wow you musta really had to go.  
Riley: You’re in a lot of trouble, babygirl  
Riley: Don’t worry, Daddy’ll find you.  
Riley: She always does. *dino emoji*

Emma felt tears welling in her eyes, not because she was afraid; she was. But, she also just...wanted to go home. But she steeled her resolve, then let out a small gasp, running her hand over a spot on her inner thigh. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” 

Christy glanced back again, already on the road leading to her house. “What?” She asked, nearly driving off the road as Emma’s yells startled her.

“That crazy bitch chipped me!” she gasped, pulling her dress up and frantically clawing at her thigh. “Do you have a knife? Like..a switchblade or something?”

Christie stared into the rearview for a moment, completely shocked. “What do you need a knife for?” she asked finally. “Yo, Em! Knock it off!” Emma had grabbed a pen, the only thing sharp she could find, and was digging into the meat of her thigh, making little pained noises. Christie just pulled up to the little driveway, yanking the car door open. “Are you fuckin’ crazy? Stop!” She pulled Emma out, checking for damage before Emma pushed her away, gasping softly. 

“The crazy bitch chipped me, I just remembered. Fuck, i can’t stay here. She’s gonna know exactly where I am!” Emma spun out of Christie’s reach, starting a dizzy panicked pattern of circles.

“It’s fine, girl.” Christie said gently, though she figured Riley was already here, or fairly close. “Look, we’ll go in, and...I’ll get a scalpel or some shit from my kit, okay? Calm the fuck down; shit!” 

Emma nodded, clutching Christie’s hand. “Yeah...yeah okay.” She knew Christie was into some kinky shit with Maria, so didn’t even question why they would have a scalpel. “Riley...she’ll be okay, right? I mean, I’ll give her a few days to cool off...” tears started pooling again. “Then...we’ll talk, maybe move back to the city and...well, maybe she’ll break up with me...” She swallowed the bile in her throat, trying to breathe and think at the same time.

Christie gave her a look, unlocking and opening the door and gently pushing Emma through the doorway while the other girl babbled. 

“It’ll be fine, she’ll be…” Emma stopped, sniffing the air like a curious retriever. “Shit...” she muttered. Cotton candy and some...sharp water smell filtered through the spicy scent of whatever Maria was cooking now. She heard the door shut. “Fucking Maria...stabbed me right in the back.” she whispered furiously, groping behind her to grab for the door handle, before she glanced towards the living room...and right into Riley’s amused face.

Riley sat on the couch, her arms spread out over the back. “You gotta try these, Em, they’re awesome!” She nodded toward the plate, half a tamale already eaten. “You went a long way to go pee, princess…”

Emma glared, first at Riley, then over toward the kitchen, Maria shrugging and sipping on a beer. “Sorry, chica, she already knew,” Maria drawled lazily. She set her beer down, grabbing a tupperware container. “We’re gonna leave you ladies alone...got plans at a fine hotel down the road,” she added, winking at Riley.

Christie gave Maria a look. “The fuck we are!” she snapped, making her way towards her lover and dropping a kiss on her cheek before heading to the kitchen, hearing the door open and a soft pained cry. “We don’t need the neighbors thinkin’ this is some sorta weird..kinky lesbian house.”

“This IS some weird kinky lesbian house,” Maria pointed out, laughing. “Riley got us a suite with a hot tub, ‘n if you’re not goin’, I fuckin’ am, coz I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna see what’s goin’ on in here. It’s gonna be fuckin’ weird.” She tugged on Christie’s hand impatiently.

Christie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fiiiine” she drawled, completely ignoring the pair struggling in their living room. She plodded off to find a change of clothes for herself and Maria.

**

Meanwhile, Emma was frozen for a moment, watching as Riley slowly stood to her full height, rolling up the sleeves to the dark blue button down she wore as she made her way around the coffee table. She glanced over at the duffel bag laying on the floor then opened the door, darting out.

She got halfway across the little yard before Riley grabbed her around the waist, halting her escape attempt, a hand clamped over her mouth to still the furious scream before it began. Riley dragged Emma back into the house just as Maria and Christie stepped out, shutting the door behind them.

“I swear to god, Riley, I will scream this house down!” Emma warned. “We’re not in the middle of Fuckallsville, people will hear.” She stomped down on Riley’s booted foot, grunting softly. “Shit, ow!” she muttered, goose pimples along her neck rising at that gentle laugh in her ear. 

“Mm, I guess our little experiment didn’t work,” Riley mused, wrestling Emma to the ground. She pinned her girl easily, throwing a leg around her lap while she unzipped the duffel, sorting through it. “I figured it wouldn’t. I didn’t think you’d come here though,” she said conversationally, stopping cold when she saw the bloody marks on the limb she was pinning. “What happened to your leg?”

Emma was wiggling, pushing and clawing at Riley’s arm, though it seemed as if Riley didn’t notice. She paused her fight at Riley’s question, glancing down to where Riley was looking, then back up. “I was tryin’ to get that fuckin’ chip out!” she snapped. “You chipped me! Like a dog!” She squeaked in annoyed anger when Riley pulled her skirt up further, pushing the fabric back down and kicking her leg out, only for her ankle to be caught; her leg bent up until she landed on her back, pinned.

“Knock. It. Off.” Riley growled, twisting her girl’s captured leg and landing several punishing slaps to Emma’s flank before she swung Emma's leg back over. Pinning the other leg down, she studied the wound more carefully. “What did you use?”

Emma howled angrily at the swats, lifting back up only to be pinned again, this time with a forearm to her stomach. “Eat a dick, Riley Petrova!” she answered, pushing her hair out of her face before she let out another pained shriek, this time to the smack that landed on the thigh of her unhurt leg, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Jesus, Em.” Riley sighed, studying the wound. “Is that ink?” She sighed again, rising off of Emma, who predictably rose up, pushing away from Riley and jumping to her feet, rubbing her eyes furiously while Riley sorted through the duffel bag. 

“If you make a run for it again, princess--” Riley said calmly, pulling first a soft pink, specially made straitjacket out and laying it on the floor. Though Emma couldn’t quite figure out what it was, she idly thought the unicorn print was cute. “--I’m going to medicate your legs so they can’t move.” Riley hesitated a moment, giving Emma a warning look before she pulled out a package, ripping it open. “This’ll be easier in the bedroom,” Riley mused, lastly pulling out a square box, and rising, set both that and the package on the table. She picked up the jacket. “Come here, baby.”

Emma shook her head. “I’m not cold,” she protested, eyeing the straps curiously and slowly backing away while Riley stalked her. “That waiter...he thinks you’re abusing me.” 

Riley tilted her head at this revelation, her fingers unworking the straps and hooks. “I think you abuse yourself,” she said calmly. “Come. Here.”

“No!” This time it was pitched up in a soft whine. Emma stood undecided for a moment; then, finding herself in the kitchen she reached out, grabbing the first thing she could, a long wooden spoon. She swung out, slapping at Riley with it. “Stay back!”

Riley winced as the spoon hit her face, right on the bruise that had already bloomed, before she lashed out, grabbing the spoon she swung it towards Emma, aiming easily for her flank again. Throwing it aside and grabbing the front of her dress, she yanked Emma forward. “That. Hurt.” she hissed, manhandling the struggling ginger until her back was pressed to Riley’s front, her hand wrapping around Emma's throat.

Emma screeched, kicking back. “Not so fuckin’ tough without your--” That was all she could say before Riley cut off her air supply, the palm of her hand pressing against Emma’s windpipe just enough. Emma clawed at Riley’s hand, squirming until she started to feel dizzy, then going limp as dots started to appear in the corners of her vision. 

Riley knew exactly where to push to bring Emma almost to the state of unconsciousness. Working quickly, she slid the sleeves of the jacket over Emma's arms, crossing the girl’s arms over her chest and tightening the straps while Emma whined, still trying to get her wits about her. By time her brain fully ‘woke up,’ Emma was bound in the jacket, Riley scooting her onto the table. “I know..they have...ha!” Riley muttered softly, smirking when she found what she was looking for. Chains were attached to the legs of the table. Perfect!

Emma lay there, wiggling in the jacket. It was something she had jokingly pointed out a few weeks ago in one of the ‘littles” blogs she followed, but now she was severely regretting it. “You suck!” she whimpered softly, swallowing several times to clear that choking feeling from her throat.

“So I’ve been told.” Riley snarked, threading the chain through the D-ring in the jacket. She studied the little bondage setup, hooking the clip back over. She leaned forward, dropping a chaste kiss on Emma's forehead before going back into the living room. 

“Fuckin’ kinky lil shits, of course you have bondage shit on the table. Ya nasties!” Emma growled, attempting to struggle back to a sitting position, but without her arms Emma just sort of...rocked uselessly in place, huffing when she heard Riley’s footfalls. 

“Woulda been a lot easier if you weren’t already down, princess,” Riley said finally, sitting the box down. She had already pulled one of the diapers out of its package, and was sorting through the box. “But that’s okay, you always do stuff the hard way.”

“Fuck you, Riley.” Emma grumped, then paused. “Do what?”

Riley chuckled. “You said you had to pee.” Riley mused, pulling Emma's skirt up around her waist and hooking her hands in the neon green panties, tugging them off her legs. 

“I lied, dipshit.” Emma hissed, yelping at the smack to her thigh. “Stop that!” she snapped out.

“Obviously you lied,” Riley started, rolling Emma's torso like she’d been taught in med school, ignoring the angry sounds coming from her princess’s mouth. “Daddy can’t trust you, so for now...” She rolled Emma back over, smirking just a little as she stepped back to grab cream, watching as realisation hit Emma's face. “Yep, this is what we’re gonna do,” she added firmly, answering Emma’s look of complete horror.

“Riley, I told you I don’t regress this young!” Emma protested, attempting to rise, only to be stopped short by the chain. Never one to give up, she tried several more times, being jerked back down to the table every repetition.

“So for now--” Riley repeated, as if Emma wasn’t even talking. “--we’ll keep these on. I don’t mind tending to you. Gonna have to if I get your limbs removed.” 

Emma continued her struggling and kicking for a few more seconds before flopping back, though she continued her string of curses while Riley taped her up, working the chain back off the straitjacket and helping her off the table.

“Dahlia was right, you do look precious,” Riley cooed, pulling a needle from the box and palming it while she led Emma to the living room. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. I know, it’ll probably take a while to adjust,” Riley soothed, straightening Emma's skirt as she helped her onto the couch. “Daddy gave you way too much freedom for way too long. Adjustments are hard, This’ll help for tonight ‘til we get back home.”

“Fuck you. Fuck you..FUCK--” Emma yelped at the sting to her hip. Turning her head just in time to see Riley pulling the needle away and recapping it, she started sobbing, knowing it was too late to try anything else.

“W..why? What was that?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry your lil head about it, baby,” Riley said gently...too gently. Emma blinked, her brain going foggy as Riley rose, grabbing the packages and boxes that were strewn across the floor. She watched Riley moving around, her body growing heavy and a goofy little smile crossing her lips.

“Love you, Riley...” she whispered softly. “Thank you f’r takin’ care of me, even when I’m bad...”

RIley glanced over at her very high princess, moving to pull Emma into her arms. “I’ll always take care of you, babygirl.” she promised, switching the tv on. Something happy and mindless, she decided. Emma deserved a little rest after all this. Carebears; the older version...perfect!

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback  
> 18/19(ish?)

“Hey, Troy. You stayin’ cool?” Riley asked, flipping the Skype window open. She still kept tabs on Troy, making sure he wasn’t falling back in with that violent old crowd from his earlier years. She was hanging in her dorm, trying her best to study and not worry about Emma, who of course, had refused to move to Iowa City with Riley. Because “Why the fuck would I wanna live with a buncha drunk college kids?” Riley remembered her saying on SEVERAL occasions. Emma had decided that they were on a break, and, while Riley disagreed, she’d allow her girl to think whatever she wanted, for the moment. Riley, as a show of trust, even asked her family and soldiers to back off a bit. A decision she would instantly regret at Troy’s next words.

“Your girl’s smokin,’” he blurted, without even a pause to consider how to say this more gently. He was a blunt guy, after all, but this was Riley!

Riley raised her brows. “Like cigarettes?” she asked. “Or pot? Coz she hates the smell of cigarettes.” 

Troy shook his head, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder before leaning forward. “Dude, no, she’s smokin’ meth,” he half whispered, waiting for Riley to explode all over him, any second now.

RIley laughed. “Nah, she hates takin’ anything except caffeine,'' Riley said lazily, flipping open one of her books. “Is that all you called ‘bout? Thanks for lookin’ out, Troy, really. But Emma ain’t that stupid.”

Troy winced, then sent several pictures he’d taken just in case Riley didn’t believe him. “She’s hangin’ with this new crowd, from that bar she works at.” Troy explained. “I..know I shouldn’t be spyin’ but I saw her with Jane an’ she’s a huge meth-head. Jane, I mean. ‘N I thought you should know…”

Riley flipped through the pictures, her expression turning from worried to angry. Emma, flirting with some stringy haired goth chick, smoking something from a pipe. The pictures were, from the timestamp, spread over a few weeks, Emma's face turning slightly gaunt, and though the girl would never be skinny, she was quickly losing weight, and her hair getting limp and stringy. 

“Thanks, Bud.” Riley said abruptly. “I gotta go.” It had been about a month since she’d had more than a quick conversation with Emma. but it seemed like they were going to reconnect after all, and soon! Riley turned the application off, making a few phone calls as she strode out of her dorm. It was Saturday night, and she had to weave through the crowd of dorm parties, but she soon got to her car to make the drive back home.

Emma scratched at her skin, flashing a grin at the greasy bar owner. “Yeah, I’m fine, totally fine,” she promised, smoothing her hands over the tiny shorts she wore. She was pleased at her weight loss, despite how it had happened. And, she seemed to be getting more attention and tips, though it was probably because she was wearing shorter shorts and skirts, not because she had lost weight. 

Joe gave her a look, blowing smoke through his nose. “Whatever, don’t fuck up tonight. I could get in a lotta fuckin’ trouble if someone figured out you work here at your age.” He gave her a pointed glare, then took another drag off his cig.

Emma laughed, the sound even shrill to her own ears. “Nah, I’m fine, Joe, really...” she promised, allowing her voice to drop a little as she stepped closer, lowering her lashes. “I ain’t made trouble yet,” she teased, turning when she heard the door open, and flashing a grin when she saw Jane enter the bar. 

The bar was where the local druggies hung out. Close enough to the bridge that both the Iowa and the Illinois side could come, yet slightly tucked into an alley and out of the regular cop beats. Joe allowed ‘whatever’ to happen in his bar, as long as he got his cut; and plenty definitely happened. Jane was a hooker, one of the younger ones at about 19 going on 30, who frequented the joint. After the drugs and men and late nights, Jane didn’t even know how old she really was; but certainly the life she lived put extra years on her body.

It was a long night of bar-tending; just past two, when Emma finally sat down on one of the ripped up couches. There were still a few people lingering, smoking and drinking, probably a few handjobs going on in the corner. She rubbed her eyes, letting out a groan as she checked the clock. If she got home, maybe she could catch a couple hours of sleep before heading to the diner. She was running on about five hours of sleep, total, this week, and though Anya and Vaughn had been asking her to come stay for a while, she just didn’t ever have time.

Emma felt the couch sag, a skinny arm draping over her shoulder. “Hey, sexy lady,” came a familiar voice. It was Jane, pipe in hand. “Wanna hit?” she asked, holding the pipe closer. Emma hesitated a moment, chewing on her lower lip. She really, really wanted to sleep, but she knew the drug would give her some energy. Plus she was already starting to ache from the lack of it in her system. 

“Yeah..” she muttered with a grin, reaching forward to take the pipe, only for it to be pulled away at the last second.

“What you gonna do for me?” Jane asked, black painted lips stretching into a smile, showing off a few missing teeth. “I dunno if I should, that big ass chick has been breathin’ down my neck..askin’ questions and shit.” Jane leaned forward. “You should make it worth my time, sexy girl...” 

Emma bit her lip, shifting in her seat. “What you want?” she asked curiously. “Like, I gave you money yesterday...do you need more?” 

With a soft snorting laugh, Jane shook her head. “Nah, babe...I know what you can do. See that guy over there?” She gestured toward an older guy lurking in the corner. “Give him a quick hand job...n I’ll give you a few hits.”

Emma frowned. “I, uh..I don’t really like guys, I mean, like..y’know…” She hesitated again, but that pipe was sooo tempting, just out of her reach.

“Aw, baby...” Jane crooned, “You don’t gotta like ‘em to fuck ‘em. I didn’t think I liked chicks til some john paid me a hundred to eat his girl out.” She smacked her lips lewdly, sparking up her lighter to take her own hit. “But, y’know...I ain’t your controllin’ girlfriend, so do what you wanna do, babe.” Jane drawled, blowing a line of smoke towards the redhead.

“Yeah...” Emma mumbled, guilt spearing her chest. If Riley found out she was even here, let alone smoking meth, Emma’d be in a world of trouble. But, they weren’t together any more, so… Emma took a quick breath, nodding. “Just a hand job, right?” she asked, standing and adjusting her shorts, her eyes glued to the pipe. 

“Uh huh!” Jane said, fake-cheerfully. Jane was getting a hundred dollars for this, be it her own hand or someone else’s. But, if she could foist the job off on Emma for a hit...hundred for not having to do anything at all...yeah. Good plan!

Emma nodded, searching the guy out and studying him for a moment. He...wasn’t unattractive, maybe forty or forty-five, and most of the ‘johns’ looked out of place anyways, so he probably wasn’t one. She slowly made her way over, flashing a smile. “H...hi!” she chirped, a bit louder then she needed to. “Uh, so..how do you wanna do this?” another pause, as a thought occurred to her. “You’re not a cop, are you?”

“Nah...” He said, pulling out his phone. “Soldier.” He flashed a smirk, sending a text. “That Jane your pimp?” he asked.

Emma blinked. “Soldier?” she stammered, more than a bit nervous. “Oh, well...like, in the army? Thanks for your service! No, she’s...I mean, I just...she’s uh...Look just let’s go to the bathroom so we can do this.” she said finally, trying to sound authoritative and experienced.

“So you can get your drugs?” he asked curiously. “Have you ever seen a penis, Emma?” His voice was familiar. “One not strapped to Miss Riley, I mean.” 

“Nope.” Emma responded, truthfully, although her ears hadn’t caught up with her brain quite yet, or she’d have clicked to the name he mentioned.

A voice came from behind her as strong arms jerked her backward, hard, into a familiar body. “You, princess,” Riley whispered into her ear, “are in a lot, and I mean, a LOT, of trouble.”

Emma whimpered softly, for a moment she allowed herself to sag into Riley’s body, relief washing over her. And then her brain clicked on. “Shit!” Emma muttered, tensing her whole body in fear. 

“Who is Jane?” Riley’s voice rose, though she didn’t turn around to look at the woman sitting on the couch. 

“Riley, don’t!” Emma warned, attempting to pull from the other woman's iron grip. “Just, go...go back to school, you’re not...” she paused, swallowing. “You’re not responsible for me any more. You...never shoulda been. I’m not your--” her words jerked to a stop as she realized Riley was studying her, practically under a microscope.

Riley finally let Emma loose, staring at her, noting the pale skin and over-revealing clothes, anger rising quickly. “Who the ~fuck~ is Jane?” she bellowed. Emma jumped, clapping her hands over her ears, trembling now.

“The fuck is it to you?” the skinny goth had risen from the couch, eyeing the small crowd that entered the bar. There were several people attempting to leave, but Riley’s group was blocking the door, all in stony-faced silence. 

Riley turned at the sound of Jane’s drug-fueled courage. “You the bitch giving my girl drugs?” she asked, her voice dropping dangerously low and hard.

“Your girl?” Jane asked, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. “Y’all broke up, last I heard.” She let the words hang in the sudden silence, a challenge if Riley’d ever heard one.

Riley paused a moment, slowly making her way across the room, standing nose to nose before she struck without warning, backhanding Jane with all her strength. She watched impassively as Jane crumpled to the ground, holding her cheek and staring up fearfully. “Emma, come here.” Riley demanded softly.

Emma cried out. “Riley! What the fuck?” She stomped her way over, crouching to help Jane up, but the woman shied away and ignored Emma entirely. Rising, Emma shoved Riley as hard as she could; ignoring the soft chuckles and the noises from the small crowd now gathered around the three of them. The soldier Emma had just tried to proposition had melted back into that crowd, standing next to a couple of his buddies. 

Riley rocked back, before lashing out, grabbing Emma by the hair, wrinkling her nose at the greasy feel as she yanked Emma closer. “You wanna show your ass, princess?” she growled out. Shaking the hand that held Emma's hair, she ranted at the redhead. “I left you alone for a month. One lousy month, and you’re workin’ in some crackhead bar, fuckin’ some meth head?” as she ranted she dragged Emma to the bar. “Smokin’ meth? Look at you!” She let go of Emma's hair, gesturing at Emma’s clothing and general state of being. “When was the last time you fuckin’ showered? Washed your hair; put somethin’ in your system that wasn’t made in a fuckin’ trailer lab??” 

“Oh, fuck you, Riley.” Emma snapped, wiping tears off her cheeks. “I didn’t get born to some rich ass parents. I gotta work for my shit, I don’t got time to do…” she paused, trying to sort through her overworked and withdrawing brain.. ..Shit. You ain’t Miss Innocent with the shit you--” She was cut off as Riley spun her around, pushing her torso against the sticky bar and jerking Emma’s extremely high cut shorts down around her legs.

“This.” Riley called out to the drunk and high crowd standing around in rapt attention at this real life soap opera. “--Is. Mine.” She held Emma down easily, slapping her ass. “Let your friends know, let your fuckin’ family know. I don’t give a shit.” She looked directly at Jane, who was now held up between Vera and another large woman. Jerking Emma back up, Riley gestured at Jane. “Get rid of her.” she demanded coldly, pulling Emma by the arm.

“What do you mean, Miss Riley?” Vera stopped Riley’s progression toward the front door, asking for clarification; as getting rid of someone had several connotations, one of them being impressively final. “I do not think this warrants...” she hesitated, not wanting to say the words.

Riley let out another growl when Emma attempted to jerk away, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sell her. Keep the money.” she snapped. “She was gonna whore mine out, ‘least we know the stupid skank will be taken care of, unlike Emma if this skank had kept going with her.” She gave Jane’s terrified face a glare. “Possibly like a dog, or a cow. Hope it’s a dog. You’re lucky we don’t deal with ~bad~ traffickers.” She dragged Emma out, opening the door to her car. “Get in.” Riley ordered.

Emma stood there, sniffling and shaking her head. “No...” she blurted, trying to sound firm.

RIley gritted her teeth. “Two choices, Em. Either get in the car, or ride in the fuckin’ trunk. I am so pissed off at you right now, I’m liable to shove you in a cage for the rest of your life!”

Emma stared at her in horror for a long moment. “You wouldn’t!” she snapped, stepping back away from Riley.

Riley grabbed Emma's arm, yanking her back to the car, before she opened the trunk. “You keep testing me, princess.” she muttered. “Over, ‘n over again...” She turned, letting Emma's arm go just long enough to bend slightly, lifting Emma over her shoulder and down into the trunk, barely wincing at the screaming girl screeched into her ear. Riley leaned against the back of the car to push flailing limbs into safety before she slammed the trunk closed, leaving Emma in darkness.

***

Riley blasted her radio to cover the angry screams in her trunk, driving through the town until she got to her parents’ house, fingers quick to press the gate code, and finally made it to the large garage. She already had a room set up for them both, opting to use one of the spares instead of their own normal wing. Shutting the car off, she pushed out, opening the trunk and bracing herself for the angry pterodactyl-screeching projectile. 

Emma did not disappoint. As soon as the trunk opened, she launched herself out, aiming to get away. Though her voice was scratchy from screaming, she continued to rant even as Riley caught her, hoisting her over a shoulder once again. 

“I can’t BELIEVE you put me in the motherfuckin’ TRUNK!” Emma gasped out once they were in the house. Riley kept silent, heading to the designated suite and straight into the bathroom, dropping Emma on her feet and working the button to her shorts.

Emma started slapping at Riley’s hands. “Stop it!” she snapped. Of course Riley ignored her protests, yanking the tight denim down over Emma's hips, fingers moving quickly to check the skin on her legs and thighs before pushing her onto the closed toilet seat to work on Em’s worn out sneakers.

“RIley, seriously.” Emma kicked her leg out, but Riley caught her foot, casting a warning glance up before checking between her toes. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asked finally, frustrated, humiliated tears brimming her lashes.

“Checkin’ for track marks.” Riley grumbled. Stretching Emma's arms up, and again finding nothing, she nodded, pulling off her girl’s small tank top and nodding towards the shower. “Get in.”

Emma paused for a moment, and then stood. “Fine..but, I have work in three hours, so you gotta...” 

RIley cut her off. Yanking the shower door open, she grabbed Emma by the hips and nudged her into the stall. “You have at least a week's worth of withdrawal shit to deal with, assuming you’ve only been doin’ the shit for a month. most of which you’ll be sleeping through because, luckily, I’m not sadistic enough to let you go through it awake. You’re not goin’ into work; you smell like a back alley whore! Take a shower.” 

“Riley...I can take care of myself..” Emma tried to protest, but she turned the shower on, closing her eyes as the hot water hit her.

RIley stared at the wet, skinnier lump of her girl for a moment. “Yeah, you were doin’ a fine job of it.” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m goin to find you somethin’ to wear and burn these rags. Seriously Emma, if I ever see you in somethin’ like this again I’m takin’ a belt to your ass.” Riley bent, grabbing the clothes and starting to head out.

Emma's stomach tensed. Sure, Riley had spanked her a few times, but she’d only belted her once after Emma snuck into one of the trucks on a ‘mission’. It was not an experience Emma wanted to repeat. But, she also wasn’t a fan of Riley being so heavy-handed. She was pretty much trapped, though, and the water did feel really good, so she showered, scrubbing the week’s worth of sweat and ick off her body and washing her hair. By time she was done, Riley had returned, handing her a large man's undershirt that smelled like Emma’s favorite laundry soap.

Emma was drying off, wincing at the headache that was pounding in her skull. “I’m gonna get fired!” she pointed out. “I don’t know why you’re actin’ all high and...” She shut up as the shirt was dropped over her head. Then Riley grabbed her hand to lead her into the bedroom.

Emma blinked, frowning at the bed. “We’re sleepin’ in a hospital bed?” she asked, giving Riley a curious look.

Riley didn’t comment, just tugged Emma to the bed. Toeing off her boots, she settled herself on the bed, leading Emma to sit between her legs before her arms wrapped around Emma. A knock on the door sounded, later than Riley had wanted. “Come in.” she called finally, feeling Emma tense and start to wiggle.

Emma whimpered as a large woman with a kind smile came in carrying a basket and wheeling in an IV pole. “Riley, the fuck is going on?” Emma asked softly, genuine fear in her eyes now. Emma did not like needles, especially IVs. 

“Gonna get a line started, princess.” Riley said calmly, pinning Emma's arms down at her sides. She nodded at the nurse, who quickly went to work while Emma wailed. “Gonna put you in a twilight for ‘bout a week. You won’t remember much. I’ll be here with you the whole time.” She soothed, watching the needle slip into Emma's vein while the girl continued to sob. 

“If I ever--” Riley said finally, using the soft leather restraints to pin Emma's arms down. “--Catch you doin’ anything that stupid again, Emmaline, I swear to god I will lock you up so high and far away that Rapunzel's mother will be jealous. Do you understand me?” 

Emma didn’t answer, turning her head away from Riley as the woman climbed out from around her. But, Riley reached out, long fingers gripping Emma's chin. “Answer me, princess. I need to know you heard me,” she said softly. Emma nodded once, and Riley leaned down, kissing her lips before straightening.

Emma faded off to the sound of the nurse and Riley talking in Russian, no longer caring any longer about what was happening around her.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	22. Chapter 22

“Shit.” Riley growled, powering off the tablet and shutting down the conference call. She had just been informed that in about a month she had to head off on another ‘business’ trip, this time they figured it was going to be a little bit bloodier than normal, and they needed a medic. For the last week or so, it had been almost nonstop quiet with Emma, though Riley had suspected it was her release for more than a few minutes from the straight jacket, along with allowing her girl pullup type underwear vs the diapers, using the disposable underwear as a reminder, though Riley would rather the control the diapers gave her. She checked the clock, a little past one, before tilting her head to the side, hearing noise in the kitchen.

“Princess?” she called. “I just put you down a half hour ago, babygirl.” Riley re-powered the tablet, switching to the kitchen camera to watch Emma, biting back a chuckle as the girl flipped her middle finger in the general direction of Riley’s voice. 

“I can’t sleep.” Emma called back. “It’s stupid that I have to lay in there and stare at a wall while you’re down here doin’ whatever the fuuu..” she swallowed the curse word. Riley had JUST started letting up on her. “--Heck you’re doin’.” she finished, pulling out ingredients. “I’m gonna make cupcakes, figure Vera and Mikhail would want a few, they’ve got some one comin’ over tonight, remember?” 

RIley could hear easily through the camera, but she thought it added some sort of...something to call through the house like normal people, so she raised her voice again. “What are the rules about usin’ the stove?” she asked, her tone holding a light warning lilt. Staring at the screen while Emma pretended to hump the stove dramatically, thinking Riley couldn’t see. “‘N I don’t remember sayin’ ‘Get up when you feel like it’...” she trailed off, casting a glance towards the kitchen, the wall just barely blocking her view. Riley was definitely still keeping a tight leash on Emma.

Emma emerged from behind the wall, her hair piled up atop her head, still wearing a pair of silky Monster High printed pajama pants and a matching tank top, the edge of the pink pullup just barely peeking over the waistband. Riley flipped the camera off, switching to a random game as Emma approached, crawling onto her lap. “Please daddy?” Emma whispered, leaning forward to nip at Riley’s smirking mouth, tunneling her hands through the short, messy hair.

Riley accepted the kiss, her own hands moving to slide over Emma's hips before she pulled back, her gaze twinkling mischievously. “I dunno, baby...You’re really gonna have to convince me you’re in the right headspace to be usin’ the stove,” she mused, tilting her head to the side as Emma kissed down her chin to her throat, suckling the skin right where neck meets shoulder and making Riley’s toes curl into the soft carpeting. “My princess might accidently...” RIley trailed off at the sharp nip, Emma's warm tongue licking at the ‘wound’.

“Pleeeeaaaassse, daddy?” Emma pleaded. She straddled Riley’s hips, grinding herself down as she pulled her mouth away, noting the hickey with satisfaction as she kissed further down, trailing her tongue over the hollow of Riley's throat. “I’ve been such a good girl!” She pulled back, lightly tugging at the other woman’s tee, grinning when RIley lifted her arms so the top could be pulled off, Riley leaning back to watch Emma as the girl tilted forward to kiss a line down her breasts, tongue flat against olive-toned flesh.

Emma sort of forgot what she was pseudo-begging for, because Riley's tits were in her face. she went silent for a few moments, switching from one tip to the other as she licked and lapped at those hardened nipples, blunt-tipped fingernails scratching lightly down the flesh before she glanced up with a small grin, sliding off Riley’s lap to nudge between her knees. 

“I suppose,” Riley murmured, watching Emma work her magic. “You have been a good princess lately.” she smirked a little. “I can’t expect that cute ‘lil mouth of yours to ever stop goin’ off though.” Riley pulled the claw clip out of Emma's hair, watching the shiny ginger locks as they fell about her face in a tumble of waves and curls while Emma pressed her lips to Riley’s taut belly, her tongue lapping at the flesh like a kitten with cream, while grabby hands tugged insistently on the well worn sweats hugging Riley’s hips.

“Mmm,” Emma mumbled, leaving a little wet bite-marked path from Riley's breasts to hips before she rose up just enough to tug at Rileys sweats again, grinning as Riley FINALLY obliged, lifting her hips. Emma's eyes lit up as she stared at the tawny curls at the apex of Riley's thighs, fingers moving to glide through them before she nuzzled, nipping and kissing at a muscled thigh.

“Don’t tease, baby.” Riley chided playfully, her voice slightly strained as she parted her legs, those long, nimble fingers tangling in red hair to urge Emma where she wanted her. And Emma didn’t resist, her tongue flicking out to part those wet folds before she started to lap, her fingers moving to keep Riley open, making happy, greedy little sounds. She closed her eyes as Riley’s essense surrounded her. 

Riley let her legs fall open, Emma shifting to kneel on the sweats pooled around her ankles, she brought her hands up, one cupping the back of Emma's head while the other tangled in her hair, feeling Emma's lips and tongue swirling around her clit, the little nub throbbing as it slid out from its protection. “Jesus, princess!” she breathed out, jerking her hips up when she felt Emma's fingers curling inside of her, the suckling more insistent. “Just like that, good girl...” Riley praised, her voice becoming even more strained as she pressed herself against Emma's mouth, rocking her hips from side to side as Emma captured her clit again, suckling gently, then harder as her tongue pressed down. It didn’t take long for Riley to crest, her stomach tightening as she ground against Emma's mouth.

Emma pulled back just enough to lap at the fluid coming from Riley, turning to kiss and lick her daddy’s thighs again before she pulled away, her hair a mess, but a sated little smile on girl-cum smeared lips.

Riley stared down at her girl for a moment, still panting before she pulled Emma up, licking her own cum from Emma's lips, then she nodded. “Go ahead ‘n cook your cupcakes.” she whispered with a little laugh. “I’ll be in to help in a bit.”

With a nod, Emma crawled off Riley’s lap, skipping off to wash her face and hands, then starting on her baking.

***

Riley collected herself, leaning her head back against the armchair, taking a few deep breaths before adjusting her clothes and rising to meander into the kitchen, leaning against the wall to watch Emma work, bright green eyes following her every move.

“You wash your hands, princess?” Riley asked, snickering at the annoyed look that was thrown her way before she pushed off the wall, snagging a couple of the rainbow-colored white chocolate chips and popping them into her mouth. She started cracking the eggs for Emma; knowing her girl hated that part because the whites always got all over her. 

“You’re such an ass.” Emma laughed. She never perfectly measured, much to Riley’s irritation, but her baked goods ~almost~ always turned out fantastic, except that one time when she nearly burned the kitchen down. That was more ‘she was distracted because Riley was stretching and her shirt rode up’ than because she hadn’t known how to bake. She paused, the whisk sifting through the dry ingredients. “Why do you do this?” she asked softly, glancing at Riley’s quizzical face, 

Riley popped another handful of the white chocolate chips. “I like white chocolate; sue me.” she snarked, passing the little bowl of eggs over before leaning her hip up against the kitchen island.

Emma rolled her eyes, counting to ten in her head before she started working again. “This! Why do you go through so much trouble with me? I mean, like, why don’t you just get rid of...” She swallowed, hearing Riley shift behind her before she felt arms wrapping around her waist, Riley’s chin on her shoulder.

“Do you remember when we met?” Riley asked softly, watching Emma's hands as they worked, folding the chips into the dough, along with the pink and green edible glitter, because of course there would be glitter in something Emma made.

Pausing, Emma nodded. “Yeah, Kinda; some shits were being...y’know, shits.” she pondered, then pointing to a particular drawer, she demanded, “Grab the cupcake things.”

Riley grinned. “What’s the magic word, princess?” she teased, running her hands down Emma’s sides, though she rose to do her girl’s bidding anyway. “You looked so defenseless, sitting there in the mud. I never wanted to hurt someone more than I did those shits..” Riley’s hand hovered over the drawer. “Which color? We got silver, green, blue and rainbow.” 

“Silver.” Emma answered. “It’ll go good with the other colors.” She reached for the package that was handed to her, shifting from foot to foot. “But, why all this? Why are you makin’ me defenseless against you?”

Riley fell silent for a moment, working the question over in her head, before she simply said. “Because, you’re mine. I will take care of you, ‘n make sure you’re healthy and that no one hurts you.” Riley reached out, swiping a bit of the batter. “Including yourself.”

While she separated the batter into cupcakes, Emma fell silent. “You hurt me.” she pointed out, her voice quiet.

“Mm, I punish and discipline...” Riley winced as Emma cried out, having bumped her hand on the hot stove while sliding the pans inside. Riley moved quickly, taking Emma's hand and turning on the cool water. She inspected the burn carefully, frowning. “That’s gonna blister a bit.” She sighed before she shook her head, giving Emma a pointed ‘see?” look.

‘Eat a dick, Riley.” Emma muttered mulishly while Riley tended to her burn. But, she didn’t pull away or fight what Riley was doing. This was their usual dynamic, and Emma didn’t always hate it, though she’d never admit that.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback  
> 17/19

Riley slid the baseball cap over her head, stepping back and giving herself another once over before she turned outward to give Vera a look. “I ‘unno if I can pass for a thirteen year old dude, V...” she complained, tugging at the binder that flattened her breasts, before she dropped one of the collection of baggy tee shirts over her head to see if that improved anything. 

Vera smirked. “Your Emma is going to...what’s the phrase? Lose her cows, when she finds out you are being used as bait!” She pushed off the bathroom wall, flipping Riley’s shirt up to check the belt where her gun was going to be clipped. “Do not tighten this too much or too little, you want your weapon to be easily accessible.” Vera paused, giving Riley another check-up. “Your mother and father will not be angry at you if you decide not to do this, my girl. I believe, at least your father would be very relieved...”

Riley shook her head, heading towards the bathroom door. “She’s workin’ at that coffee shop, then I got Dahlia pickin’ her up to do some sorta animal volunteer stuff at that shelter, that should keep her busy at least ‘til tonight.” She paused finally. “‘N we’re gonna murder these fucks messin’ with kids.” She grinned, throwing an arm around the woman that had guarded her since she was little. “Don’t worry, V, this is my first, like, solo mission! I’m stoked! Everything’s gonna be just fine. Besides,” she added, “solo doesn’t really mean completely all by myself!” 

Riley, along with several soldiers and a few other people, were in one of the meeting rooms, going over their final plans, when the door swung open with a thud. Several of the soldiers jumped up, guns in hand, but Riley just lifted her head from the folder she was flipping through, her expression turning from amused to annoyed and back to amused again. “Come to see me off, babe?” she asked lazily, slowly standing while the others tucked their guns back in holsters and settled back in their seats, used to Emma and Riley shouting through the halls of the colossal home. 

Emma was furious. How dare Riley keep something like this from her! She barely even noticed Dahlia hovering by the door and wringing her hands together, as she stomped through the room. “No, Nope, Nyet, Nein...Whatever the Spanish word for no is. I forbid it, you’re not gonna be pedo bait! Are you fucking insane?” she snapped. She made her way around the table, reaching out to slap the baseball cap off Riley’s head, growling low when Riley stood and grabbed her wrist. 

“The Spanish word for no IS ‘no’,” Riley said gently. Glancing over at Dahlia, she gave the other girl a raised brow. 

Dahlia shrugged. “I’m sorry! I thought you told her!” she said, skittering off. Riley switched to Russian, spinning Emma around and pressing the ginger to her chest before continuing to address the soldiers and others.

“We leave in one hour. Please excuse me while I sort this one out.”

Riley pushed Emma through the door before dragging the protesting girl through the hallway into the kitchen, finally letting her go. “Chill, Em.” she ordered. “I’ll be back late tonight, stay up in our rooms or I’ll come to your apartment.” She was trying to placate Emma, gently running her hands up and down the furious girl’s arms. 

“Fine!” Emma snapped. “I’m going with, then. I need a gun, and...and...” she hesitated, eyes searching the room for items. “And a knife! And mace!” Emma spun away, yanking a drawer open furiously, grinding her teeth at the snorting laugh from behind her.

“Yeah…” Riley drawled. “I mean, I barely let you walk in the bad neighborhoods with me. But I’m gonna put you front and center in a kiddo human trafficking ring! Yep, that’s definitely going to happen.” Riley's voice was sarcastic as she reached out to close the drawer before Emma could find a weapon. “You gonna spatula them to death, baby? Scream at them ‘til their ears bleed?” Riley bent a bit, dropping a kiss to Emma's head while she wrapped her arms around the trembling ginger. “I’d say scratch ‘em to death, but you keep your nails short, which, by the way, since those fingers are frequently in my snatch...I’m pretty grateful for.”

Emma grunted, wiggling in Riley’s hold, but the woman held fast, pinning her arms to her sides. “It's not ~funny~ Riley!” she snapped. “You’re gonna get killed! How do they figure you’re gonna be bait anyways, you look...” she hesitated, studying Riley’s figure, which clearly appeared different from her usual look. “You’re gonna pretend to be a lil boy, aren’t you? That’s why you got no tits.”

“Borrowed one of Mikhail's old binders,” Riley explained, letting Emma go and pulling up the shirt to show it off. “Not a perfect fit, ‘specially since it was made for him when he was like...I ‘unno, twelve, and it’s old as fuck but...” 

Emma cut Riley off. “I don’t care, I don’t want you to go!! You’re gonna get hurt or killed or...” She bit her lip, gesturing helplessly, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Seeing Riley in the binder made everything extra real.

“Do you need us to medicate you, baby?” Riley asked gently. She had no problem dosing Emma if it would help the girl relax and feel better about this. “This is kinda somethin’ you’re gonna have to get used to, though,” she warned.

Emma sighed, but shook her head. “Fine, whatever.” she muttered, turning away. “Just don’t die.” She couldn’t meet Riley’s eyes as she said this.

RIley nodded, kissing her cheek. “Mom made that soup you like n’ we bought a buncha bakin’ shit for you to play with while we’re gone. Dahlia was supposed to keep her mouth shut, but, we always got a backup plan.” She winked. “Be good,” came her order as she began wandering out of the kitchen and back to the small crowd.

Emma stood there for a brief moment, contemplating if she should make fudge or cake...maybe cupcakes. Anya liked cupcakes when she got home from one of these missions, especially the dark chocolate ones. Emma turned to sort through the ingredients, then paused, her hand halfway to the fancy organic flour.

“What the fuck am I doing?” she muttered to herself. She spun on her heel, searching through her purse as she darted through the halls and up into their shared suite of rooms.

“Black...black black...” she muttered, sorting through their closet. Most of her clothes were colorful and sparkly, but she finally settled on a pair of black yoga pants and one of Riley's big sweaters, thanking whatever deity responsible that her lover liked her clothes big, since Emma was thicker than Riley.

She quickly redressed, grabbing her purse and slipping towards the kitchen, nodding and smiling and trying to be as unassuming as possible as she passed the few staff the Petrovs kept around. She slipped into the garage and into the black Hummer. It was the largest, so she figured that’s what they were going to be using. She hunkered down in the back, pulling a blanket over herself.

Emma was right. Not long after she had settled down, the Hummer started to fill up with soldiers and gear. Emma’s heart was beating so loud she was almost sure that at least Riley could hear it, even as the small crowd all talked quietly. Emma only picked up a couple of the Russian words here and there with all that was being said.

About twenty minutes in, Riley pulled her phone from a pocket of her jeans, flipping it open to check her messages. She had one of the new smart phones that’d just come out, and, big Russian gangster or not, she was still a teenager and loved playing on her device. She flipped through the photos, most of which were Emma, some smiling, some glaring, and one or two dirty ones before she turned the phone sideways to send her girl a quick text.

Riley: Gonna fuck you stupid when I get home

*ping*

Emma bit down a gasp. Her phone...she’d forgotten to turn it off!! She reached for her purse, trying to move slowly so as not to make any more sounds.

Riley: You being good, princess?

*ping*

Riley: I love you so much

*ping*

Riley glanced up, still talking in Russian. “Don’t react,” she instructed the people around her. She kept her voice light, sending several more texts, though finally the pinging had stopped. She gave quick directions to one of the many safe houses they had scattered about, this one, as usual, hidden down a forest road. Riley sent Dahlia a quick text, the house midway between the Drang home and their own home. She figured by the time she got Emma...situated, Dahlia would be here to keep an eye on the girl.

Emma clutched her phone to her chest...but it seemed like they hadn’t heard the ping from each text message after all. She squirmed, finally flipping the phone open as the vehicle started down a bumpy road, nibbling on her lip as she read the texts and trying to calm down the panic attack and figure out...what exactly she was doing. While she mulled over this, the car stopped. “huh, that’s weird...” Emma thought. “Must not be as far as I thought it--” And the back hatch opened and she was being yanked out, almost before she could even blink. Emma let out a startled shriek as strong arms caught her.

“This is, by far, the stupidest stunt you have ever pulled, Emma!” Riley ground out, clamping a hand over Emma's mouth. She pivoted, dragging the struggling ginger toward the unassuming little house where they’d just parked. Vera was ahead of them, opening the door and giving Emma a chiding glare as she moved about the house, turning on lights and starting the air conditioner in hopes of moving the stuffiness out. 

“So far...” Vera muttered, moving out of the way as Riley pushed Emma, the ginger falling to the ground to stare up at Riley, her eyes wide. Emma, for once...had the sense to look afraid.

“Do you know how much danger you put yourself into?” Riley snapped, whipping the cap off of her head to tunnel her hands through short, spiky hair. “And now we’re gonna be at least an hour, if not more, late!” She paused, watching as Emma rose, opening her mouth to retort. Riley put up a hand to stop Emma. “Shut up, princess!” she snapped. “Do you think I woulda been able to concentrate if I knew you were here? Do you think Vera could? Do you even ~think~ before you do stupid shit?”

Emma eyed the door, then glanced back at Riley, figuring if she kept the other woman pissed off and ranting, Riley couldn’t go off and do whatever she had intended to do. “You’re going!” she pointed out, turning to pretend to look over the place. “If you’re going, then I should be able to go and...be all weird and..I ‘unno, assassinate people.” She glanced over at the pacing, angry Riley, smirking. “You’re not my boss, Riley Petrova!” she snapped.

You...I’m...” Riley spluttered, her eyes wide as she stared at Emma standing there looking, to her eyes, like a little girl playing dress up. In just the few seconds of the staredown, she pictured her girl bound and broken by some horrible people, and before she knew it, her hands were going to the belt at her waist. “Go lean over the back of the couch, Em.” she ground out.

Emma blinked. “What?” she asked, confused, watching Riley as she tugged the black leather through the loops. “Why?” And then it clicked, Riley had spanked several times..and now Riley was taking off a belt, and when did Riley start wearing belts? Ohhh there’s that belly! Hello...wait, no, not good. “Nope. Nuh uh! Not happening, Riles.” Emma started to back up, holding out her hands. “Let's talk about this...You can’t...”

Riley folded the belt carefully in half, instinctively knowing to keep the buckle gripped in her palm. “If I have to go over there, princess, it’s gonna be a lot worse for you,” she warned, pointing at the couch. Riley barely heard the door open, a small gasp coming from behind her.

“Dahlia!” Emma called, giving Riley a wide berth as she scampered to the older woman's side and tucking herself against Dahlia. “Riley’s gonna hit me! With a belt!” 

Dahlia studied the scene for a moment. Nodding her head, she gave Emma a quick squeeze. “Emma, darling. You really shouldn’t have done what you did...” Dahlia's voice was gentle as she glanced over at Riley, who was holding the belt loosely. “The couch, Riley?” she asked softly. “Or the chair? It would be hard to use a belt over your lap.”

Emma jerked away from Dahlia, though, despite the taller girl’s delicate appearance, that grip was like iron. “Dahlia! That’s not fair!” Emma cried out. “She can’t! I read a book once about...about...” Dahlia made the appropriate listening noises as she led the shorter redhead toward the couch. 

Dahlia pushed Emma down over the back of the couch. “You’re Riley’s, Emma.” she said gently. “It’s her job to correct your behavior, and this behavior needs correcting. Take your punishment like a good, strong girl, yeah?” she suggested, pinning Emma in place.

Riley had watched, canting her head to the side. Usually she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers, but...Dahlia was being so sweet and gentle with Emma, even as the other girl cursed and protested, almost motherly. Riley quickly shook the thoughts from her head. Straightening her shoulders, she strode over to the pair, using her free hand to tug the yoga pants and panties underneath down to Emma’s knees, placing a hand on the small of Emma's back, for a moment looking unsure. She glanced up at Dahlia, who nodded her head, holding Emma's hands. Then Riley swung, landing a stripe on the swell of Emma's ass.

Emma shrieked, kicking her leg back before she felt another line of fire scorching her bottom, her arms jerking in Dahlia’s hold. Three more painful lines were landed before she felt Riley’s hand smoothing over her burning ass, tears already streaking down Emma’s cheeks. She barely noticed Dahlia’s hands moving from her arms to her hair.

RIley slipped her belt on again, buckling it before she leaned down to kiss Emma's wet cheek, pushing the ginger pigtail over the girl's ear. “I’ll be back, princess.” she promised softly.

Dahlia held Emma as she cried, pulling her to the couch while Emma wiggled, holding her arms out pleadingly towards Riley. “Pleeease Riles?! Please don’t go?” Emma begged, “I don’t want you to get hu...huurt.” She hiccupped between little sobs.

RIley paused, glancing at Dahlia, torn between staying and going to do her birthright’s job. “I’ll be back, baby.” she said finally. Grabbing the cap, she turned and went to the door, pausing before shutting and locking it.

Emma and Dahlia curled up on the couch together, and though her ass hurt, Emma just wanted Riley to come back. But, she just burrowed her face against Dahlia’s neck, crying brokenly until she finally fell asleep.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present

Emma knew this day was coming. Riley had been prepping her for weeks, setting ground rules and generally, to Emma, being an absolute turd. But, as the days got closer, Emma's nerves twisted tighter and tighter.

The day before Riley’s departure, she kept Emma on a low dose of some sort of sedative; true to her form, Riley had too many kinds to count. Maria and Christie were staying with Emma for the week because, despite the fact that Emma had seemingly accepted her fate, Riley still didn’t trust her girl alone. 

Emma was working in the kitchen, chatting to Maria while baking cookies for Riley to take on her trip. She had just slid another batch into the oven when Riley called her into the dining room. The ginger rolled her eyes at Maria, who was in the process of stealing another cookie, before Emma tossed a towel over her shoulder and made her way into the dining room. “Let me guess!” Emma said, with a cheeky grin. “You’ve decided that flying to Europe without your treasured Emma was a very, very bad idea, and you’re gonna stay home and stop being such a high-handed weirdo.”

Riley snorted, scooting back and pushing the laptop aside, patting the table. “C’mere, princess.” Riley ordered, watching as her girl sighed dramatically, but obediently made her way over to Riley’s side. Riley nudged Emma onto the table, scooting between her knees and smoothing down the baggy bright yellow t shirt. Riley tilted her head up, watching Emma's face. “Rules, princess.” Riley waited for Emma to recite her rules like a good girl. 

Emma raised her brow. “Don’t kick you in the face?” she asked sweetly. “No licking the carpet. I’m allowed to fuck at least four pe--eoooouch!” Emma rubbed her pinched thigh, sulking. “This is stupid, Riley. I’m not a kid, and it’s not like you actually ~have to~...motherfucker, if you don’t stop pinching me--!”

Riley bit the inside of her mouth to stop the grin that was forming, smoothing her fingers over the pinch as she raised her brow at Emma. “Christie’s been wantin’ to test out that straight jacket, baby. Keep on with that mouth,” she warned, a hint of suggestiveness in her tone. 

Sighing again, Emma counted on her fingers. “If I want to watch something scary, it can’t be anything that can really happen. No Scream, no I Know What You Did Last Summer, no Law & Order, Criminal Minds...” Emma paused. “So pretty much no watching the good stuff,” she recited cheekily.

Riley nodded somewhat approvingly. “You can watch supernatural stuff. Like--” Riley paused, then added drily, “Supernatural.” 

Emma giggled at that, then mumbled something before raising her voice. “Three meals a day, two snacks allowed, I can only have soda with breakfast and lunch. Bed by--”

Riley stopped her. “Go back, baby,” she ordered softly, nodding when Christie passed by on her way to the kitchen, palming the pill and water bottle Riley slipped to her. 

Emma ground her teeth, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve got a weird obsession with food, Riley; you need to get help with that. Also, did I mention you have major control...Ow!” She jerked as Riley landed a slap to one of her thighs, now wishing for that dreaded pinch instead.

“You.” Riley said, landing a slap to her other thigh “Have a weird obsession with not doing what you’re told. Daddy’ll help you with that though. Continue.” She leaned back authoritatively, studying Emma’s face with a look that said there could easily be more slaps or pinches.

Emma grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her voice. “You bitches better not be eating all those damn cookies. One of you take the trays out ‘n put ‘em on a rack,” she instructed, before she continued talking to Riley in a more normal tone of voice. “Sweets are allowed with either one meal or one snack, veggies with all three meals, including breakfast, which is gonna be a pain in the fuckin’ ass since I hate wakin’ up...”

“I’ve premade all the meals, baby.” Riley cut in. “Bedtime is...”

“Whenever the hell I want, coz I’m a thirty year old woman?” Emma smirked, though she blocked Riley’s smack, this time earning three to her flank, squeaking and squirming with each one. “Jesus, Riley!” Emma grumped. “Eleven!”

“And what time are your meds?” Riley prompted gently.

Emma licked her lips, shifting slightly. “An hour before I go to sleep. So, like...ten?”

RIley nodded. “Don’t forget you’ve got classes too, baby,” Riley warned. “If I hear you’ve missed any...”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yes I know; you’ll flay me alive and eat my liver.” 

Riley shook her head, laughing. “I was gonna say take away your soda, but that works too. Open.” She held the pill to Emma's mouth, waiting patiently.

Emma hesitated a moment, staring at the pill, but finally, with a sigh she opened her mouth. If she didn’t, Riley would just give her a shot anyways. She reached for the water, but Riley pulled it away with a soft “ah, ah!” then tipped the drink to her lips before she rose and kissed Emma's mouth. “Alright, princess, go grab the cookies.” she stated.

Emma stood, wrapping her arms around Riley. “Stay here?” she asked hopefully, peering up at Riley while lazily pressing her hips against her lover's groin. 

RIley smiled gently, carding fingers through Emma's unruly hair before taking her by the arms and pushing her away. “Go’on babe, you’ve been in the kitchen all day makin’ stuff,” she urged, her heart breaking as Emma's eyes welled up with tears. But Emma nodded once, turning to head to the kitchen as instructed.

****

Riley was late! Riley was hardly ever late. In the twenty plus years Emma and Riley had been...well, Emma and Riley, even when they were “not a thing,” Riley had been late maybe three times, and never more than an hour past. It had been a day!

Maria glanced up from the laptop she was typing away at, Christie was curled up beside her on the couch, dozing while Emma paced back and forth and back again. “You need to chill the fuck down before you send yourself into a panic thing..” Maria ordered, glaring at all the pacing. 

“Eat a dick, Maria,” Emma snapped, agitated. Maria took no offense though. Truthfully she was incredibly worried about her friend; both her friends. She didn’t know what was keeping Riley, and of course Emma was now understandably panicking.

“Jesus, Em!” Maria snapped again as Emma dove for her phone, the sound of “Baby Shark” suddenly blasting through the little machine’s speakers. Emma tripped over the coffee table in the process. “‘N you wonder why homegirl...” She trailed off mid-comment to Christie as Emma's face turned even paler than normal, nudging her lover. “Yo, somethin’s up.” she whispered. 

“Shit...thanks.” Emma muttered, turning the phone off. “We gotta go.” she said, heading for the door.

Christie stood. “Em, girl you’re still on lockdown!” she reminded Emma gently. 

“Riley’s in the hospital. ICU.” she said shortly. “Gonna take me, or do I gotta hitch a ride? Coz I’m pretty sure whatever Riley’s payin’ y’all to be up my ass will be cut if I’m hitchin’.”

Maria had already stood, gathering her laptop. She had been friends with Riley and Emma a lot longer than Christie, and already had a feeling something bad was going on. “You need to grab some shit, Em? Meds? Stuffed animal? Change’a clothes?” She was already herding Christie out as she talked, fingers quick to key in the door’s lock code before Emma made a hole in the wall Acme-style. 

“No!” Emma said, not caring about anything but getting to Riley. She was just about to slam her hand over that stupid keypad when the door opened, instead, she rocketed out and headed straight for Maria and Christie’s car. “Dunno why you locked it.” she bitched, pulling on the handle. “A fuckin’ goat isn’t gonna steal your car.”

With a snort, Christie unlocked the doors, all three girls piling into the car.

***

The official time to get into town was two hours and fifteen minutes; at least on an average day. With Christie behind the wheel while Maria attempted to distract Emma, it was one hour and twenty minutes. And, soon they were at the town's large hospital. Before the car could even be shut off, Emma was through the door and running for the hospital entrance. “Shoulda put the child locks on,” grumbled Maria. “Riles always puts on the locks...” They both piled out, following Emma.

Emma easily found the information desk, shifting from foot to foot impatiently while the elderly lady who slowly clacked away at the computer chatted away on the phone. Usually Emma was almost painfully polite to the elderly, but right now she just didn’t have it in her. “Hey! Yo! I need to know where Riley Petrova is!” she snapped.

“Are you family?” the woman asked.

“Yes.” Emma said shortly, just as Maria and Christie stepped up behind her.

“And you are…” The woman quirked a brow.

“Emmaline Woodford.” 

“I mean what is your relation?”

Emma grit her teeth. “Wife.” She had a very, very thin string of sanity left, and the old woman was dancing right on it. 

“Ah...uh hmm...” The elderly woman raised her brows, but started typing slowly, squinting. “Ah, yes, Riley...” She trailed off in a little bit of shock, looking at Emma like her head was on backwards. ”Petrova...You’re of the Petrovs?” She gave Emma, dressed in a paint stained baggy purple top, bright green leggings and unicorn slippers, a highly disbelieving look, her lips pinching sceptically. 

“Yooo, lady, there’s literally a wing dedicated to ‘em. The kids’ playroom is named after Emma. She’s the one who decorated the bitch. ‘N if you keep fuckin’ with Riley’s girl, there’s gonna be shit to pay. Do you need video of ‘em fuckin’ or somethin?” Maria snapped. “Give us the fuckin’ room number!” Usually Maria wasn’t so crass in public. But, she knew from experience this could go on for hours...or Emma would lose her mind and throw something at the old biddy.

The woman let out a sigh. “If you three cause any trouble...” she threatened, as someone approached, whispering in her ear. She finally gave the room number to the three, after the whispering from another front desk person evidently persuaded her to hand it over. Before she even finished reciting the last digit, the trio was off.

Vera stopped Emma halfway through the door, squeezing the ginger tightly. “She will be okay!” the large Russian woman promised, brushing Emma's hair away from her face, after giving her a bear hug. “It looks bad, and she is in a coma. But...she will be okay. You, little darling, need to calm yourself, because if Riley senses your stress, she will not heal well, yes?” 

Emma was trembling, but took a deep breath, nodding. “What happened?” she asked softly. “How...Why is she here? Not...not that I’m complaining, but wouldn’t they have...you know...over there? At..that hospital?”

Vera shook her head, quietly explaining about the small bomb that had been attached to the vehicle Riley was in, and how they did emergency care before med-evacing her to this hospital. She glanced up, nodding at the couple behind Emma before she squeezed the ginger again. “Go on, Emmaline. She needs you.” 

Emma nodded, slipping into the room. The sharp smell of antiseptic, the beeping noises and the machines hooked to ~her~ Riley had her pressing a hand to her mouth. She barely noticed Anya and Vaughn, both a bit beat up, sitting in chairs beside the bed, before Emma crawled up into it, careful around tubes and wires, her fingers brushing over Riley’s face. “Oh, Riles.” she whispered softly, heart in her throat and tears gathering. 

Riley's parents stood, Vaughn pressing a kiss to the back of Emma's head before they both shuffled out. Riley needed her Emma right now, this they knew, and there was not a word of argument from either of them.

***

Three days later, Emma sat, finally freshly showered and clutching Riley’s hand. In her other hand she held one of the forbidden energy drinks, since, of course, she’d had maybe five hours of sleep total, mostly curled in Riley's bed, and had only left to shower after Vera bodily lifted her and dumped her in the en-suite bathroom, promising a Monster if Emma showered and ate something besides M&Ms. Emma took a swig now, her thumb lazily rubbing over the dinosaur tattoo on the inside of Riley's wrist, when, suddenly, she felt her lover’s fingers twitch!

“Riles?” she jerked the can down, rising slightly from the chair as she started to call for the nurse. Hearing a soft grunt from the bed, she turned her head before crawling into the bed, nuzzling Riley’s cheek and pleading for the thousandth time. “Please, please daddy wake up...”

Riley was slowly coming to; turning her head to the sound of Emma's voice, she pressed her lips to the girl’s cheek, wrinkling her nose. “Throw it away, princess,” she husked, smelling the sickly-sweet drink on Emma's breath. She lifted her arm, wrapping it around Emma as the nurses came in to check her vitals, squeezing a little tighter and barking a soft “No.” when one of the nurses told Emma to move. 

Emma wiggled slightly. “See!” she grumped. “You’re all bossy with me, ‘n you’re the one goin’ into a fuckin’ coma! Miss ‘Protect Emma from herself’, bullshit!” Emma was crying, her face firmly planted in Riley’s neck, hearing the husky chuckle from the woman's throat. 

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you, princess?” Riley asked. “Daddy’ll fix it...when she can...y’know...actually move.”

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years later  
> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda sad my story is coming to an end. 
> 
> I may do time stamps though!

Emma sat in the little office, clacking away at her computer. The lawyer she was working for had a huge case coming up, and although Annabel had told her several times things were covered, Emma, as usual, worked until her bones couldn’t take any more. She’d been coming home late for the last week, Riley usually heading in from her clinic at around six, but now Emma didn’t arrive at the house until late at night most days of the week. She’d walk straight into the bedroom from her car, collapsing in the bed; but she was always unable to sleep. 

Of course, Riley being Riley, she was putting a stop to that today. Just like she had put a stop to Emma's nursing career after Emma had been attacked by a patient for the third time. Today, Riley came into Annabel’s building, pulling the door to Emma's office open, those green eyes sweeping the area and landing on the neatly stacked cans of diet Mountain Dew. Riley crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, noting silently that at least it wasn’t Red Bull or Monster or the handful of energy drinks she’d been, rather unsuccessfully, banning her princess from since they were teenagers. 

“Wrap it up, princess. You got twenty minutes left.” Riley finally commanded, making her way forward and leaning her hip against the desk. “How many of those did you drink? Coz...I’m pretty sure your limit is two, and diet is forbidden. I mean, I know I’m getting a bit old, but...”

Emma started, letting out a yelp before tired grey eyes flickered up to Riley. “Uh..” she muttered, turning to sweep the cans into the trash. “Like...four?” she lied. “I needed some energy, and I’m almost done, da--” She swallowed. “Riley,” she finished. “Like, two or three more hours, just gotta outline the rest of...” She blinked as her computer flickered off, letting out a soft shriek. “You are so fucking lucky this shit autosaves!” Emma growled, rising to plug her computer back in. “Don’t be comin’ in here actin’ all…”

Riley smirked, pulling Emma up and smoothing her hand warningly over Emma's ass, which happened to be clad in a pair of rather flattering slacks, before she dropped a kiss to Emma’s forehead. “I gotta go get somethin’ from the car,” she said lightly. “Get your stuff cleaned up. How many vacation hours do you have? Thinkin’ we need to go back to the farm ‘n get resettled.”

Emma paused, nibbling on her lip. “The farm” was their house in the country, and though Vera and Mikhail lived there now, along with their girlfriend, boyfriend and slew of farm animals, Riley and Emma still kept their old house just for them. Emma both adored and hated going there, since her ‘privileges’ were few and tightly controlled; privileges meaning any sort of control over herself at all. 

“I don’t have any vacation hours right now,” she lied, flashing a small smile as she peered up at Riley, wrapping her arms around the other woman's waist.

“Hm...” Riley muttered, then nodded, patting Emma again. “Get yer stuff, babe.” she ordered, heading out to the car.

With a soft sigh, Emma stared at her computer. She ~could~ turn it back on and finish, but something else would come up, then something else after that, and soon she’d be lost in her work again. So, the ginger gathered her purse, bundling her laptop back into its bag, and opening the small fridge to stare at her uneaten lunch with a panicked look. “Fuck!” she mumbled, slamming the door shut. “I’ll...deal with that tomorrow,” she decided, figuring if Riley didn’t ~see~ the uneaten lunch, she couldn’t punish Emma for not eating it. She shoved the half eaten bag of m&ms in a drawer just as Riley came back in, a black book bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Mhm, yes, I think three weeks will be plenty. Thanks, Annabel, I know she’s gonna be hard to replace, but hopefully she’ll come back less stressed!” Riley pressed the button to her blue-tooth, raising a brow. “You’d think you’d know better than to lie to me, princess.” she said wryly, dropping the bag Emma knew very well.

Emma glared at the bag. “Come on, Riles, is this necessary?” she asked, skirting the wall. “I mean, yeah, I’ve maybe been at the office a bit to long for the last couple of days--”

“Three weeks, Em.” Riley said gently, turning the lock. “Don’t worry, princess, no one’s gonna hear, the front office is locked too.” She crouched, unzipping the bag. “We’ll get started before we go home, yeah? You can nap in the...” She paused as Emma darted towards the door, one hand reaching out to grab the waistline of Emma’s pants while the other sorted through the bag. “Seriously, Emma?” she asked, laughing softly at the poor escape attempt. Rising, she cornered Emma against the wall. “You know the drill, princess. Do you need daddy to help you wash your hands before your mitts are put on?”

“It’s really fucking creepy and weird that you carry a ‘Emma’s loss of bodily autonomy’ bag in your car, Riles.” Emma snarked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Riley leaned forward. “It’s really silly that princesses don’t do what they’re told so I gotta remind them,” she shot back, parroting Emma’s tone, though her voice was teasing rather than angry. She stepped back. “Go on, wash your hands.” 

Emma huffed, but stomped off into the bathroom while Riley moved to the desk, spreading the pink diaper printed with little crowns over it. At home the changing table had straps, but here she’d have to be happy with Emma holding still, or if that wasn’t a possibility, pinning her down. “Don’t you dare shut that door, baby!” Riley called, taking mental stock of the layout almost automatically.

“Eat a dick, Riley.” Emma called back, a familiar refrain, though she kept the door open as instructed, washing and drying her hands, then washing them again. Finally, she figured she couldn’t stall any more, so she shut the light off and came back into the office, eyeing the front door.

“Go ahead, baby, try it.” Riley stated, fiddling with the locks to the mittens. “I haven’t given you a good spanking in a few weeks. Give me an excuse to chase you down and beat your ass. Prolly wouldn’t be very comfortable covered in a diaper though.” 

Emma growled softly, stomping her foot childishly, because dammit! She was tired and she didn’t feel like being chased down.

“I see we do know how to make good choices. Come here, baby.” Riley ordered, crooking her finger and watching with a satisfied smirk as Emma stomped closer.

“This is stupid, Riley.” Emma grumbled, keeping her hands crossed over her chest and glaring at Riley’s little setup. “I don’t wanna! Besides, you can’t just fuck off work either, don’t you got like...patients and shit?”

Riley glanced up. “Troy n’ the other doctors can handle it for a few weeks.” she said nonchalantly. “Hands out.” 

“No.” Emma pursed her lips. “I’ll..take a few days off. But you’re not gonna--”

That was as far as she got before Riley snagged her by the waist, turning Emma around in a familiar hold, back to front as the over-tired girl started to struggle, growling out little squeaking swear words as Riley pushed Emma’s fingers through the mittens and tightened the wrist strap. “Princess...” she murmured in Emma's ear. “This wasn’t a discussion. This is never a discussion. Daddy decides what’s best. And, right now what’s best is a reminder that daddy is takin’ care of you, because you can’t take care of yourself.” The mittens were on, and Riley started to unbutton the slacks, pulling out the soft pink button-down. “We’re gonna get out of these silly dress up clothes, and back in your princess clothes. You’re gonna have a smoothie and some water coz lord knows you’ve got enough shit in your system to kill a bear and it needs to be flushed out. Then you’re gonna take a nap in the car,” Riley dictated. She kept her voice soft, almost singsong as she guided Emma down, parting her legs and tugging the diaper over and between them. 

“Riley, wait!” Emma whined, pushing back up, only for Riley to flatten her hand against Emma's pudgy stomach, pushing her back down and sending a warning glance. 

“I have cuffs, Em, I have no problem strapping you to this desk,” Riley threatened.

“I know, you big ass.” Emma grumped. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

RIley made a ‘hmm’ noise, but smoothed her hand over Emma's stomach, gently soothing her girl as Emma flopped back with a huff. Riley was quick to put cream and powder on the appropriate areas, pulling the diaper into proper position and tugging the velcro. “I think you look precious in these. By the way,” Riley added softly, pulling Emma up and unbuttoning the girl's top, pulling a loose, dark green shirt dress over her head. “Those heels have your feet all kindsa screwed up, baby.” Riley squatted to tug the black heels off Emma's feet. “Jesus, where the hell have you been walking in these?”

Emma blushed pink, scrubbing her face with the soft cotton mittens. “Round the block a few times, not that it’s any of your business,” she muttered, though she let out a soft sigh of relief when Riley kneaded at her feet before sliding a pair of soft black flats over them. 

Emma sat on her desk, watching Riley gather the supplies and pull out a water bottle, handing it to Emma and tugging her hand. “C’mon, princess.” she said softly.

Emma hesitated for a moment, then hopped off her desk and grabbed her phone. She’d leave her laptop and purse there in the office. One of the soldiers would grab the items later if it turned out she’d need them. Snuggling into Riley’s side, the women headed to the car. 

“I want a chocolate smoothie.” Emma demanded, almost before she got completely settled in her seat.

RIley chuckled. “That’s a milkshake, not a smoothie. You can have vanilla, strawberry or banana,” she decided. Riley buckled the seat belt, shutting Emma's door and rounding the car, slipping into the driver's seat and watching Emma as the redhead chugged the sedative laced water.

“I want chocolate though...” Emma whined sadly, already feeling some of the effects, although she didn’t notice them yet.

Riley nodded, driving off. “Banana it is.” she said drily, squeezing her girl’s hand. 

They would have many more days like this. Emma chafing at Riley’s control, while Riley secretly enjoyed the little rebellions, although she enjoyed putting them out more. But, deep down, they both knew exactly where they were meant to be. Here, together...just like this.

© 2020, MarshmallowGirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love.
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I want to take the time to say that while this is pretty tame and also fantasy and just a fun story to read and possibly rub one out to, This is not okay in real life. Role play out your possessive fantasies with your lovers or play partners, or even have "consensual non consent" relationships. Goodness knows there's plenty of people out there who would absolutely adore this sort of powerplay, and it's no worse then people who like to go fight for fun IMO but remember consent and safe words or gestures or whatever, and if you feel you are being abused RL, please seek help, no matter what gender you are or what gender you love. 
> 
> https://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html <\--National abuse hotline


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